Harry Potter and the War-Torn Soldier
by Averyk
Summary: In fourth year, when Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire, what would he have been like if he were a bit more cautious? How would things turn out, if he were to make a new friend: one who wishes to do nothing more than to help him survive the ordeals of his Tasks? What if he were to truly change The Wizarding World forever? Rewrite in progress.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so another rewrite. Honestly, I want to lower the dialogue and make this a much better story. And in truth, I also have to refresh what I have done, making the quality better.**

 **Consider the other chapters rough drafts until they are replaced. I wanted to do this sooner; but typing had given me a case of carpal tunnel that I was lucky was only to the point that if I would have kept on, it would have gotten bad.**

 **So here I refresh myself, reworking chapters; besides, it will help me work on the characters I was just bringing in.**

 **Also, I wanted to mention, since I have been asked plenty of times, I just wanted to assure people, this is not a Lord Harry story. I am going to try and implement some politics and inheritance into it, not to make him the wealthiest Wizard ever, these will be essential for the later parts of the story.**

 **Another thing I wanted to mention, throughout this story I am trying to escape the tropes of fanfiction Harry Potter stories. I want something different. And while there will unavoidably be many different aspects that may seem to be brought in from fanfiction, I am not talking certain parts; but the story as a whole (Though who knows? This may be eerily similar to something I have never read).**

 **And lastly, I will try and limit myself on these author's notes from here on out, either that or put them at the end of the chapter, since putting them atop it would seem annoying to many, probably.**

 **Fun fact:**

 **Funnily enough, I wanted to shorten this chapter, it was 8,500 words before; and now I have shortened it to a whopping 3,000 words** _ **more**_ **than I had before. I had to laugh after checking the word count.**

 **Anyways, I like this version of the prologue a lot more than before, the original was only 4,400 words.**

 **(Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I certainly wouldn't be writing this story a fanfiction; so, obviously I don't.)**

9/12/17

Prologue:

 _I've always heard people labeling others as Dark or Light Wizards; and I can't help but wonder at the sheer hypocrisy of it. Especially since Light Wizards use dark spells in good ways; just as easily as a Dark Wizard could use light spells in rather nefarious ways. So the question is: Why do we label them as such?_

 _In fact, if we look at the truth of the matter, the only thing that really separates the one from the other, is intentions. Though, actions alone should be what label us This is something that I believe that Wizarding Kind has never truly understood._

 _Quoted from a conversation of Harry James Potter._

Harry awoke with a start, darkness filling the room and pain throbbing from the every beat of his heart. This morning again it hurt, the scar above his brow thrumbed with pain and anticipation from the horrors the future had yet to bring.

This was a feeling that was beginning to become all too common, as of late. Ever since just before the World Cup, this summer past.

The problem that came with this, was that this was no ordinary scar, this scar was a remnant of the night that his family died. The night that the darkest Wizard of this century, had marked him with this scar. Not to mention the fact that this same scar was also what caused the caster of the curse, to fall from his glory, at the height of his power, fame, and notoriety.

This Dark Wizard, the casters name was Lord Voldemort to his followers, along with the most of the Wizarding World. But in truth, he was born Tom Marvolo Riddle, to the few of those in the know. Though, he was more commonly hyphenated as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, even now, a decade and a half after his reign of tyranny ended, fear still gripped the United Wizarding Kingdoms, of the British Aisles.

This naming scheme, that the Wizards had, The-Boy-Who-Lived often mused, was so ridiculous. Why do they always have to hyphenate the fame name? But that was neither here nor there. Wizards were often strange like that.

Well anyways, for most Witches and Wizards, they believed the man to be gone...dead; but for Harry, he knew the truth. Especially since the scar had brought him dreams and visions of this infantile little creature, that had Voldemort's voice.

But even if it was not for these visions, that Dumbledore told Harry he got through a connection caused by his cursed scar, Harry had actually met two shades of the man. One in the form of something straight out of The Lord of the Rings, and another, in the form of his younger self. A teenage boy, who used a younger girl, talking to her about her crush, and gradually began to possess her, freeing her from her mind and will, as she, or to be more technical, _He_ , had controlled a thousand year old basilisk, to randomly attack students and cats. But more horrifying than that, to even attack ghosts. Making it all the more easy for him to get a chance at the one who was his elder self's nemesis.

Aftersitting up, Harry began to rub at the scar, wishing that he could use a pain reliever to get rid of the throbbing. Unfortunately he had tried that once, and it was as pointless as him wishing for a normal life. Basically, he could wish for it all he wanted, but the past few years had shown him just how pointless wishing could be. And as much as he would like his life to be ordinary, he would not give it up for the Muggle World.

Do not get him wrong, relatives aside, he loved the Muggle World too. But at heart, he was a Wizard. And he would not want that to be taken from him. For anything.

With a stretch and a yawn, Harry reached out and groggily grabbed for the water that the elves left bedside. A service done in order to keep children in their dorms at night... A fact that Harry had yet to adhere to.

 _Tonight had been a bad one,_ Harry idly thought as he walked over to one of the castle windows, and opened the shutter, breathing in the crisp, fresh dawn air, and relaxing to the dawn birds gentle chirrups.

The weather this morning, it was chilly, and brisk as an early autumn morn should be, waking him from whatever vestiges of sleep that remained, as he looked over this scenic vista, that his room in this high tower showed.

If one thing could be said for Gryffindor Tower, it was that the view one could get from a high tower in Hogwarts was truly beautiful.

In the horizon, Harry viewed the sun begin to peek over the mountains of the east, as a beautiful red, orange and pinkish tint, began to fill the sky. If he looked hard enough, his seeker refined eyes may have been able to see the small animals that were still out at this time of year, though he ignored the idea.

It was funny to him, his eyes were horrible; but as long as he had his glasses on, he was still able to see better than most. If not, he would never once have been able to play as seeker, despite his reflexes and skill. Since he would never have been able to see such a small snitch. Probably because his friend Hermione Granger had enchanted his glasses in order to have them the perfect prescription for anybody's eyes.

After a few moments of calming himself, Harry walked over to his desk, and began to write. Each dormitory came with desks located next to the beds, in case the students wanted the isolation of their room, making it a temporary sanctuary for them...unless the ones they were trying to avoid were their roommates.

What he was writing, right now was a letter to Professor Dumbledore, since after this summer past, Sirius had told him of Harry's vision, and Harry was asked to keep them informed.

As he wrote, he told them of the dream, and how Voldemort seemed to have something in mind for tonight. Not something that they spoke of in great detail. Actually, it was more of a passing reference, as Wormtail had stammered: M-m-my lord, all-all is in place for tonight, and the plant has made his m-move. This in turn, gave Voldemort, such great pleasure, and since the only times he had ever felt such emotion from the man, was when he spoke of what he would do to Harry. Harry was sure that this had something to do with him.

If only the dream had lasted a little longer, then he may have had some answers; but it ended just as abruptly as it began. If only he could have delved further into the recess's of this man's mind...he would not even want to try. That was a place he would never want to go.

As he finished, he wrote down even the pointless stuff. Before he duplicated the paper, walked over to Hedwig's perch (thankfully she did not sleep in the Owlery last night) and attached the envelope for Dumbledore to her foot, and sent her off. The other he would send with another bird for Sirius later.

Afterwards, Harry went to the dormitory bathroom, taking a quick shower, before magically brushing his teeth and spitting out his mouth after gargling, before descending the stairs.

 **HPatWTS  
**

"Did you finish your homework?" Hermione asked as Harry helped her over to the table, with her arsenal of books. The sheer amount she carried was enough to overwhelm any man, so Harry had decided to refer to this as her armory, and once Ron had heard this, it just kind of stuck.

"Yes mum," he replied, just before handing her his work to look over. He gave up years ago, on arguing with her on how she always checked his homework over, it was just the natural order of things. The sun shines, the wind blows, Snape demeans people, and Hermione checks their homework. That was just how life was.

Her not doing this, it would be like, well...Chicken Little being right, and the sky was really falling. Or worse yet, it could be like Hermione...failing. Or so she felt that would be worse than death. With an idle speculation, Harry wondered whether she still felt that way...probably.

With a loud thump, Harry set her books on the table. The book was called: Arithmantic Discussions Over the Centuries, and as he looked at it, he decided to label it a tome, since it was rather large and heavy. Though more accurately, he thought tomb would be better, as he was sure that this reading had brought many people who tried reading it to theirs at an early age.

"How the hell can you read such a thing?" Harry cringed as he asked. He was sure this thing would bring him nothing but sleep.

"Well, it is interesting. I mean, there was this one Witch, Valery Vestebule, and she argued about how the arithmantic formula for the spell to-"

Harry began to pour himself a cup of coffee, as he ignored Hermione's ramblings. Thankfully she never asked his opinion on these conversations; or maybe she does, and he is just off in his own world when she does it. He did not know, but she did love to talk about and specualte to herself, so he just let her go on. He would never have understood it anyway, as all of the words to do with the subject were foreign to him, and just blurred out after a while.

"And you see, this was why she argued the point. It was a fascinating read, and though I am not sure that I can agree with her, I have to say, that she did bring up some amazing points," Hermione finished happily.

"Coffee?" Harry asked, passing over the carafe.

"Ugh, no," she said, accepting it, and pouring herself a cup, adding in artificial sweetener. "Do you know how fast this stuff rots your teeth? And the discoloration is just horrible," she said, before taking a sip.

The problem for Hermione is that her parents had strictly forbid her from drinking coffee, being dentists and all. But Hermione being the bookworm she was, thrived off of coffee, and needed it to keep her awake at all hours of some nights. She knew she needed the stuff, and she knew that magic could clean her teeth to a perfect sheen; but the arguments were ingrained into her. Apparently her parents were really adamant about the perfection of her teeth, and seemingly tried to brainwash her into not drinking coffee. Probably got the idea from playing a record backwards or something.

"Let me see, you have most of this right Harry, but your presentation is a bit sloppy, and Professor McGonagall will take off for that. So what I think you should do, is reword how you worded this here, and this down here, before moving this paragraph to the beginning just after this here, and everything else should be fine."

Heaving a sigh, Harry sat down and began to rewrite his essay. He knew first hand that Hermione knew what she was talking about, and it was just plain annoying to ignore her. Since she would not let it go. And then when getting marked with a lower grade, seeing the teacher's comments, she would get really smug. And a smug Hermione was a frustrating Hermione.

As Harry began his work in silence as Ron entered the room, yawning to himself and looking groggy as ever.

Before sitting down, Ron grabbed the carafe, and loading his cup with a heinous amount of sugar, and began to pour.

Harry could never understand this, as he always loved the taste of coffee, so a spoon or two was more than enough for him. He tried adding more once, and shuddered at the thought of how sickeningly sweet it was.

"Get this," Ron said, as he took a large gulp of his syrup-like coffee, smiling in satisfaction at the taste. "Seamus and Dean having an argument again, you know, over that football thingy—Really, I will never understand how Muggles find kicking a ball around so fascinating; it's nothing like quidditch. But anyway, he got pissed when Dean told him that he could never understand what was so great about the Irish team, when Seamus tore that poster of his favorite player down. the one that had been up for ages."

"Well, I am not sure if their friendship will survive that, because Dean turned around and slugged Seamus after that. And you know Seamus, loud to the mouth and no action. He just turned around and sulked, but man that was crazy."

"Boys..." Hermione sighed, with a roll of her eyes. "You all get into fights over the stupidest of things."

"Except for you Harry," Hermione said, smiling at him.

"What about me?" Ron asked.

"Ronald Billius Weasley, just yesterday, after somebody had mentioned the Canons losing streak, you flew off the handle, and dumped your hot tea on her head, and she wasn't even talking to you. So don't expect any praise from me, on your benevolence. Because Ron, sometimes you may have no tact; but other times you just have no common sense."

"Here, here," Harry toasted with his coffee, earning a glare of betrayal from Ron, who started chuckling afterwards. Even he could not help but admit that sometimes he just should not act before thinking. "Anyways, the problem this time may take a long time to mend. Because in most sports fanatics minds, it could be considered akin to some sort of religion...That, and I have actually heard about riots happening at football games across the world."

Shaking her head at the concept, which she knew to be pretty accurate, Hermione walked over to Ron, as he grimaced before she put her hand out for his homework; but still, he handed it to her.

"Seriously Ron, you are rather decent with practical work; but how horrible can you be with theory and history? Which are rather simple," said Hermione, as she began marking things off, and analyzing what was wrong. All of that before she began to tell him what he needed to fix, and with a sigh, he began working.

 **HPatWTS  
**

Despite the fact that the representatives of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had arrived the day before, it was a rather ordinary day. This was a fact that many including Harry found a bit odd; but in reality was caused by the fact that none of the other schools had entered the castle until it was time to eat.

On the other hand, after classes ended for the day, many of the students from the other schools could be found roaming the school corridors and even in such places as the library or the other recreational rooms of the school.

Oddly enough, Harry had even taken notice of coordinated duels in the classrooms meant for such a use (though in all of the time that Harry had been in the school, only a few times had he seen such event).

It was a bit odd, since he knew of the Dueling Club, which was open to post-O.W.L. students, but they were normally so strictly restricted, due to the advanced spellwork that they did not want the younger years trying, that they were relatively unheard of, outside of Professor Flitwick's supervision. And after the whole ordeal in Harry's second year, they all but openly refuse to teach the younger students.

This was a problem brought about by the fact that the students and teachers all acted irresponsibly, just because they saw a student talking to a snake, which made them all believe Harry to be some sort of Dark Lord, who wanted to kill all of the Muggle-Borns; despite the fact that one of his two best friends was just that...a Muggle-Born.

That aside, practically nobody but from his friends and teammates believed in his innocence, he even had to deal with the Hufflepuff's believing he was after one of their own, Justin Finch-Fletchly; until it was Hermione's turn to be petrified.

With all of that happening, it was decided that for now at least, the Dueling Club would remain to the upper years. Or at least, that was how Professor Dumbledore explained it, in one of their random(?) encounters.

Anyway, in these classrooms he had seen supervised duels breaking out among the delegations from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, and he had to admit, they were relatively well matched, and quite skilled. Not that he himself was the greatest judge; but he had been in more danger throughout the years than possibly all of the participants combined, to get a fairly accurate guess on how dangerous they could be.

Other than that, Harry had noticed some things at dinner, for one, the Beauxbaton lot were mostly female, and their giantess of a Headmistess seemed to ignore the males, though there were still a good few. And then there was the most beautiful girl Harry had ever seen, a girl with silver-blond hair, beautiful eyes, and a sway that could transfix any man's attention to her backside. Harry immediately determined her to be high-strung.

The reason for that was, because she was quite loudly complaining about anything that wasn't French, and comparing everything to Beuxbaton's, and quite loudly too. Apparently the place was too old fashioned and it gave off the vibes that many did not want others to use to think of the Wizarding World, because it reminded them of the days of the witch hunts.

Harry though, he could care less what they thought of the place, this was his home and he thought it as brilliant as the day he first laid eyes upon it.

Durmstrang on the other hand, they were all too chummy with the Slytherin's. Though, Harry did have to laugh at the attempts Draco Malfoy was making with Viktor Krum, star seeker of Bulgaria. Basically, from what he could see, Draco was elevated to the level of fan-girl in Krum's eyes, and it was frustrating the Malfoy Scion to no end.

As for Hogwarts students, they were focusing their attentions on their house favorites. Harry knew little of who they were; but Hufflepuff was giving their all to Cedric Diggory. A name known throughout all of the school, and Angelina Johnson was getting the attention of those from Gryffindor. Well...not only her, but the Twins were getting it from those who were listening in on the plan that Fred and George were cooking up.

Well..that was until earlier in the day when they were sent to the infirmary to be shown by Madam Pomphrey, how to give themselves a good shave.

As for Ravenclaw and Slytherin, Harry knew little of the people from their houses, and almost nothing about their upper years. Except for the few girls that threw passes at him, trying to ride the coattails of the famous young Wizard.

Not that he particularly disliked their attention, he was a boy after all, though Harry did have to listen to Ron whine when it happened, and hear Hermione's lectures.

It wasn't like he was encouraging them; but he wasn't going to be outright rude either. And plus, it was just plain stupid to be rude to a beautiful girl, no matter their motives...and...well, some of their offers were quite enticing; despite knowing the reason they would even hint at such things.

Anyway, for now, he avoided such situations...though with his life, he could not make any such promises to himself for the future, since only Mars knew what the future would bring. And who knew when it would become so bright again? Those centaurs certainly wouldn't be talking.

Thinking about it though, they might actually tell him that...and only that. Actually, Firenze aside, that seemed to be the only thing they knew how to say, in his experience.

As he came out of his revelries, Harry decided to try some sort of Bulgarian dessert. It was not something he was used to and the texture may have been a bit different, but he found it quite good. Though his biggest problem was that the night had not ended, and between his dream this morning and all of his other Halloweens since returning to the Wizarding World, he was sure that something was going to happen. He just wasn't sure what yet.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, the lights began to dim. Slowly this happened, until the room had completely darkened.

Then, out of nowhere, burst forth a green and golden flame, illuminating the room in a dim ambiance, that seemed both foreboding and intriguing. With this, the room had been startled into a shocked outcry, before silence and awe settled upon them.

"Tonight," clapped loudly, with an amplified voice, "will be the first night to mark the opening celebration of a tournament that had not been done in ages. Now, I hope all of you realize just how dangerous this tournament is, before you had put your name on the parchment to enter. As this tournament may wield you great wealth upon winning, you should understand that it will also have a danger that far surpasses the rewards," announced Albus Dumbledore, from right behind to the goblet, bathing himself in it's ethereal glow, and bowing to the magnificence of the moment.

"So...be sure that you are able to at the very least, compete, even if it causes you great fear, as this goblet will create a magically powerful and binding contract. Since this is an artifact created by some of the greatest Runesmith's and Enchanter's of the Goblin Nation's of the past. And one who does not live up to the contract, like the Goblin's of old, will be stripped of their magical talents, rendering them no different than a Muggle—not that there is anything wrong with that, but as a Wizard, I myself would not want to lose what I was born to."

At this proclamation, there were sudden gasps filled throughout the room. In truth, not very many had dug much into the contract created by the goblet, many people just wanted to know what the tournament consisted of, and after finding out that the tasks changed tournament by tournament, stopped looking into it.

As friends of Hermione though, both Harry and Ron had already known this, she wanted to make sure to stop any foolish behavior, like that of Fred and George, before they began. And when Ron heard about the reward, he was ready to try with those two; before he learned of the consequences.

Also, another reason for his reluctance, even though Ron may not have dealt with all of what Harry had, but after a dangerous game of chess that got him hospitalized, he was wary of what the tasks may be. And then after hearing some of the previous tasks...Well, Hermione was rather adamant about telling him of the breeds of oversized spiders that had been faced throughout the tournaments of the past.

And after that, Ron had totally lost all of his zeal. Especially after remembering the the time he and Harry were chased out of the Forbidden Forest, by a herd of stampeding acromantula...and one could even talk.

Funnier yet, out of the corner of his eye, Harry had noticed that Draco Malfoy became so pale, that he had nearly fell from his own chair. Pointing this out to Ron and Hermione, they began to chuckle, along with a few others sitting next to them.

After that, Malfoy's face became paler yet, as he noticed the commotion at Gryffindor table, and when his eyes met with Harry's, who couldn't help but send back a condescending smile. One ever so similar to that which Draco Malfoy gives to the people he feels beneath him, mainly...everybody.

"Now, I would like for you all to give a hand to Bartemius Crouch, who has done more than all to get this tournament up and running," a smattering of applause broke out, while Hermione glared. She still had not forgiven him for the way he treated his House-Elf. Winky, Harry thought her name was, as he tried to remember.

"And I am sure many of you know, and may have even seen some of his previous games through the omnioculars that your parents may have recorded them with, Ludo Bagman," this time, the applause was loud and uproarious, though out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a dark look cross the faces of the Twin's.

Harry wondered about that for a quick second; but went back to watching the stage. He couldn't understand them at the best of times, and could understand them even less now.. They should be happy, after all of the gold they won off of him.

"We have others, that have worked to a lesser degree," and as he said this, the Professor gave a quick glance at Bagman, "but you may see them around. Do not be shy, you may talk to them, though they are bound to speak nothing to the children or Headmaster's of the school—I am sorry," he said with a bow to Madame Maxime, "Heads of our schools, about what awaits our Champions. So please be nice to them, they are our guests, and should be treated as such."

"Now, for the main event of the night, the drawing of Champion's. The lotto of lots. As I call your name, please enter through the door to my left," and with a snap of his fingers, the lights from the chandeliers reignited and a a door magically appeared that nobody had ever seen in the Great Hall before.

Then slowly, the lights yet again began to dim, showing only the dim green glow of the goblet's fire.

With barely enough light to even show himself, the professor walked towards the goblet. Reaching out his hand, in a perfectly timed gesture, the green flames turned into a violent, blinding crimson, before dying off and leaving forth a piece of parchment, as the flames ebbed leaving in a golden hue. One that seemed so reminiscent to that to Fawkes' flame.

"Curious..." the Headmaster said, as he tapped his fingers in a way that reminded Harry of Mr. Ollivander, from the wand shop in Diagon Alley. "Curious..." and with a smile, he popped another lemon drop into his mouth.

"Mm— I have always found it so curious about how such a tiny piece of candy could invigorate one so much that they could feel so alive after consumption..."

"Huh, what? Why has the place gotten so silent?" The Professor asked, looking around as if he had just noticed the silence.

Sighing, a thought crossed upon Harry's mind, one that he had often though plenty of times before, _I wonder what is in those lemon drops, the Headmaster has an addiction to them like a drug.? Maybe they are hallucinogenic, like that acid stuff I had heard about. Well, it would explain some of his more odd eccentricities._

"Oh yeah! Sorry did I get of tangent? I have tendency not to notice when I do that, you know. Especially with age creeping up on me. But then it is not like I am as old as Bathilda. Poor old Mrs. Bagshot, I think she has dementia...or maybe Alzheimer's or something. Lovely lady though—what!?"

"Oh fine, our first Champion is...Mr. Viktor Krum please exit stage left. I believe that is the Muggle expression," silence reigned, as the students began to comprehend the Headmaster's meaning, but it wasn't until after the words sunk in and Viktor Krum rose from his seat, meeting everybody's gaze with a surly one of his own, that a thunderous applause met the room.

As expected of an international celebrity, all schools began to cheer for him. Well, at least his fans and the quidditch lovers among the student and staff, which was a good three quarters of each school, especially after the performance he gave at the Quidditch World Cup a few months ago.

Finally, after near ten minutes of applause, the crowd began to settle down. Harry himself having a raw throat from cheering of his own. He had to admit, after watching that game, he became a fan himself, though he also had a desire to surpass him one day.

But if his cheering was one thing, it wasn't anywhere near as bad as Ron's, who right now seemed to have finally matched the color of his face to that of his hair, through the exertion of just cheering loud and hard. Maybe the loudest and hardest of everybody?

"Now, I can see that you are all excited, but please quiet yourselves so that we could continue," the Headmaster lectured though through a booming _sonorus_ , though he did not seem perturbed in the slightest.

"Our next champion is," he said, as the room erupted in the brightness of the flames. "Fleur Delecour of Beuxbatons."

This time silence met the room, even those from Beuxbaton had not made a sound, save for a few. Harry could not understand why, but then it became apparent. He once heard that there was nothing uglier than the jealousy of a woman, now he understood why.

The person who got up was arguably the most gorgeous girl he had ever laid eyes upon. Though it was not his first time seeing her, as she asked for their dish of bu...bou...ah to heck with pronouncing that foreign word, he thought, while watching the hypnotic sway of her hips, move from side to side.

Snapping out of it, Harry had just felt as if he had once again been placed under the imperius curse, and he could understand the looks of rage and incredulity among those of the Beuxbaton delegates. She was so beautiful that not one male had averted his eye from her beautiful frame.

"I think she must be Veela?" Hermione said from right next to him. "Take a look at the way everybody stares. No matter how beautiful a person is, there will always be those that aren't interested, or may be attracted to different traits. But with males, and even some females, there is an attraction that is drawn, and it is almost as potent as the imperius."

"But as you may see, when looking around the room, some are coming back to themselves, especially after getting smacked. You yourself Harry," she said as the palm of her hand connected with Ron's cheek. "seem to have an immunity to the curse, especially after all of the times Professor Moody made you fight it."

"Ow! What in Merlin's name you do that for!?" Ron shouted as Hermione turned to look away from him. Eyes showing a mixture of irritation and satisfaction.

"You might be right," Harry answered, both wanting to forget the feeling of lust that swelled up in him, when the Beuxbaton representative walked near their area of the table; but not wanting to forget the sway her hips made. "But I doubt she would really need such an ability to make a guy do what she wanted. I mean, I bet wars were fought over women less beautiful."

"True," Hermione conceded with a roll of her eyes. "Historically speaking, the Illyad was based off of a war started by Aphrodite, who herself was a Veela Witch that enchanted Helen of Troy, through the imperius. But that is neither here nor there. As she was a jealous person, who couldn't stand the fact that the man she loved was immune to her charms, while being enamored by Helen."

"The Illyad?" Ron asked confusedly, as he came to himself.

"A book that pretty much all Muggle children are forced to read in school," Harry replied.

"That and The Odyssey," Hermione added in.

Ron stared at them with a blank look.

"The war started by the Greek Enchantress Aphrodite, it was exaggerated in muggle culture, turning history into fantasy, recreating Greek Witches and Wizards into Gods, and over-embellishing some of their feats," Hermione informed them.

"Oh yeah, dad used to tell me about that, until mum thought that I was going to get ideas in my head, about joining the Muggle World and proclaiming myself God."

"Okay, so maybe I joked about it once or twice," Ron explained as they stared at him. "But that was just because Fred and George were pissing me off."

"Language Ron."

"Yes mum."

Hermione just rolled her eyes and gave up for the moment. Sometimes these boys were just so frustrating. This was the second time today she was called that.

"Anyways, lets quiet down, they are about to finally call out for the Hogwarts Champion," Harry said, turning his gaze forward, just as the lights went out again. And then in a flash, the final one for the night, and Harry could swear that it was twice as bright as the last two.

"And finally, the Champion that my own school has been waiting on," Professor Dumbledore said, as he reach for the pouch at his waist.

"Hmm, this can't be right. Would anybody happen to have a lemon drop they could spare, I seem to have run out."

The entire student body groaned, and again Harry had to ask himself just what was in those candies to make them so addictive, and he would have to be sure not to take any more of them, if they made you act like this...

"Albus," Professor McGonagall chastised. "Not now."

"Fine Minerva, as you say," the Headmaster pouted.

"Cedric Diggory, you may enter the chamber," he said inn an exasperated way; but everybody could see the twinkle in his eyes, and could tell he was taking great pleasure in his eccentric activities.

Looking over to Cedric, Harry could see the joy and elation on his face, from this turn of events. In fact, after a few moments of looking, he thought he could see surprise on his face also. Which Harry found a little strange, as it was well known that Cedric Diggory was one of the top students in the school, and in fact, the best with overall practical work, he couldn't see how he was surprised.

Comprehension was not quick to dawn on him, though, with the way it was said, nobody could really blame him for that. But after a minute, Cedric got up and began walking towards the door, followed by the applause of Hufflepuff table; while being quite frustrating to the others.

Sadly further down the table he saw Angelina let out a sigh of frustration. But even with the dejection she felt, even she began to clap good-naturedly.

If there was one thing good he could state about his teammates, it was most certainly that they were all nice and understanding. Even back in his second year, they were some of the only few, who thought him not a Dark Wizard.

Fred and George, for the love of magic, were even able to get him to laugh and smile back then, escorting him down the halls, blessing him with a black cape, telling others to make way for their newest Dark Lord. Harry Potter.

But that didn't sound right, maybe he should take a lesson from Voldemort's book, an anachronism. Yes, he should make it one of them. How about, Lord Hampy Raho Jerry Asotte?

And while it may be true that there was no special meaning to it; but at the very least he thought it better than something as cowardly as: Flight from death.

Yes, as usual he had gotten his information on this from Hermione. Who had a one point explained the definition to him. Along with recounting the many tragedies that had befallen his victims back in the days of his reign of terro. Which included nothing less than rape, torture, killing, kidnapping and extortion.

She explained in some gruesome details exactly what was done to Muggles and Muggle-born, along with the _**pure**_ Witches and Wizards that these Pure-Blood supremacists propagated their protection over. Nothing but damned hypocrites if you asked Harry.

Anyways, he found the name quite cowardly...and very fitting from what he remembered of the time he had met this master of malevolence. He clung to life like no other, even at the expense of his humanity, while he drank the unicorn's blood.

Not that Harry believed he had much of that humanity left. You know, with him sticking out of the back of that Quirrel's head and all.

But, to get to the point, Harry did not feel that the man having a cowardly nature made him any less dangerous than if he were truly brave.

Over the years, when he grew up, Harry had spent much time in the libraries, and had read up much on history. Not that stuffy old stuff that he was taught by Professor Binns. no. But he had read up on Muggle history and Voldemort's acts had the makings of a ruler from the Middle Ages. A Feudal Lord.

From what he had read on some of them, they acted as they wanted and were only capable of it by having an army to back the up. These people in Harry's guess, were some of the most dangerous people to ever live.

If one of them wanted your wife, that Lord could have his men walk up to your home and take your wife, if they wanted your daughter...the same. Not that all rulers were like that; but the ones that were reminded Harry so much of Voldemort. Cowardly but dangerous.

But at the same time, these people who incited fear and hatred, were the ones who created there own worst enemies.

Since fear is a productive motivator.

This Harry knew well. And while he never considered himself to be any real kind of threat to Voldemort, his first and second years had proven to him that fear was very motivating. Since in his first year, it was his fear that Voldemort may come back into power, that got him to follow Quirrel after the stone.

And in his second year, it was his terror at what may have befell his best friends little sister, that gave him the courage to face that giant serpent and stab that diary with the poisonous fang. The one that he had just pulled from his arm.

If anything. The thing that he truly learned as a Gryffindor, it was the fact to show true bravery, you must know fear. If it hadn't been for the fact that he was so scared when he faced the basilisk back then, he would have never pulled that sword from the hat.

The Sword of Gryffindor. A symbol of courage and a sword that could only be called by the truly courageous.

He was a different sort of coward than Voldemort, that was for sure; but in Harry's estimation, there should only be three sort of cowards: the ones who face their fear, the brave ones, the one who flee from them, the cowards, and the ones who do nothing.

This was what made him different from Voldemort. Voldemort had always ran from death. The proof of that is in the name; but Harry truly never thought of running from it and there were even a few times he embraced it. Not in the act of running away from life; but with thoughts of preserving others lives.

So if one truly thought about it, there was nothing more dangerous than a coward. A coward is one who sits behind others, letting them get their hands dirty, or they could be the type to run away. All the while making other people's lives hell.

Voldemort was the type that is the ladder of those options and many died because of it.

It was at that very moment that it happened, at a moment when Harry was lost in his own thought. Thoughts that came unbidden, due to the dream that he had this morning. The vision, along with the nagging sensation that he had felt all day—due most likely to what day it was, the anniversary of his parents death. What he felt was a cold certain ominous foreboding.

And that was when his name was called forth from the cup.

 **HPatWTS  
**

It barely registered on Harry that his name was called. So wrapped up in his own thoughts was he, that he never even responded. Not until Hermione had nudged him. Heck, it was only the smallest part of him that even noticed that the lights once again went out, nor did he even comprehend the flash that was the green flame turning crimson.

Not until after Hermione had gotten a hold of his attention and had said the dreaded words, "Harry, you have to go up there, your name just came out of the goblet and the Headmaster has been calling for you," not until then did his pale white skin turn an ashen hue and his eyes had begun to lose their luster. That was when he began a dismal march.

As this was all happening, there was only one thought on his mind: _Not again...why me?_

It was not that it came as a surprise, he expected something to happen today. But why couldn't it be Trolls or snakes, he had handled all of those.

And on top of being selected, Hermione had told both him and Ron about the history of the tournament and how at one point, a freaking manticore was brought in as a Task to overcome. That day, not only did all of the Champions die, but so did the judges. Which meant all of the headmasters present, along with some French Ministry officials (since it took place in France that year) but to make things even worse, more that a quarter of the spectators were brutally annihilated.

It was through the muddled haze of his thoughts, that he walked up to the old Headmaster. And it was that haze of thought, that made it impossible to remember what it was that he was thinking, by the time he got to him.

"I—" he began to say, before the Headmaster raised his hand, motioning him to silence, as he massaged his temples, from what seemed be a pounding headache.

"Harry..." he said, taking him out of ear shot.

"I have to ask, have you done anything to influence the outcome of this tournament? Something like say, giving an older student a piece of parchment that you wrote your own name on, and having them place it into the goblet for you?" and as he asked this, he made sure not to avert his gaze from the young student.

Harry then stared him down him down, looking straight into his eyes, willing the Headmaster to believe him, before Harry finally said, "No."

The Headmaster then let out a sigh of frustration before responding, "That was what I had thought," and in a moment, one so unlike the Headmaster, he actually cursed under his breath.

"Okay Harry, the oath is binding and somehow your name made its way into the goblet, as I am sure we are both aware on how—given your most recent trip into the psyche of a madman—so there is nothing we can do for now. All I can say is to go into the the other room and await us with your fellow Champions," the Headmaster said with a gentle shove towards the door.

 **HPatWTS  
**

"What eez it, leetle boy? Did zay zend you in to get uz finally?" with a sigh, that was the question that Harry walked into.

It was not a fact of being called a little boy that had bothered him; but rather the fact that a beautiful girl not much older than him asked the question. Now that was bothersome. Seriously, what healthy young male going through puberty would like to hear such a thing. Not Harry, that was certainly for sure.

Not only that, but it also seemed rather...condescending in a way.

"No," Harry replied, as he walked over to an empty corner, sitting with more aplomb than he actually felt.

This, Harry felt might have been foolish, as it would probably not help him in the least, when he tells them that he did not put his name in; but it did help him relax...a little.

"Zen what are you dooing here?"

With a sigh, Harry looked up without responding. It was not that he wanted to be rude; even if her own attitude seemed that way. It was more that he just did not want to reply, as everything that had just happened still seemed so surreal to him.

"Excuze me, but—"

"Wow! That was simply fabulous, I mean really, a fourth Champion. Seriously," Ludo Bagman laughed, as he entered the room, "Barty had made plenty of arrangements and contingencies; but even he had never seen this coming."

"Might I ask?" this time it was Cedric who spoke up, after a short deliberation. "You just said a Fourth Champion. And unless I missed my guess, you are speaking of Harry over there. But what I am wondering is: This is the Tri-Wizard Tournament right? Then how in bloody hell are you saying that there is a fourth Champion?"

"Beats me," Ludo shrugged. "If this is something that Barty couldn't answer, then there is no way in hell that I would know the answer to that. And right now he is out there, in the heat of an argument, as they try and figure out what is going on here."

After their conversation died down, nobody even said a word. Though Harry could feel their glares on him, as he sat there staring at the ground, contemplating.

If he had really wanted to, he could have began arguing the fact that he himself did not put in his name, or he could even just shrug it off and ignore the whole ordeal. Worrying only about the challenges ahead of him; but over the years, he learned not to worry too much about what was coming in the future. Since it will happen, regardless of whether or not the worries are still there.

Though saying this, it was not that he wasn't frightened; but just trying not to worry about the unknown. He had faced many tasks like this before; but this time, unlike then, he knew that he would be in a seriously deadly situation before hand. So he just thought about what he had faced before, then thought about what he should have done differently. Since this was a situation that if he did not participate, he would lose his magic.

It was as he thought about his first year foray into the deepest depths of the third floor corridor, when finally somebody else entered. Actually, quite a few somebodies entered. Snape, Professor McGonagall, Bartemuis Crouch, Mad-Eye Moody, and all of the schools heads entered. Snape having a look of frustration as he argued with Professor Dumbledore over something.

"But I tell you Albus, this is but a ruse and the boy is guilty I tell you. I mean, look at the mischief he gets into every year. And I mean **every** year," Snape said this as entering the room and it was obvious to Harry that it was meant to be heard by all, giving them a jaded view of him. As expected of Snape, just entering the room and already trying to make Harry's life more of a living hell than it already was.

"Severus, I have already pointed out my views to everybody that councils the tournament here and trying to change my views won't do a thing."

"But Albus, the boy has been crossing too many lines since entering the school and you need to discipline him with a firm hand. If not, he will end up just like his father."

"First off Severus, as Headmaster of this school, I do not believe in corporal punishment; but if you really want that implemented into our school, you are welcome to join a committee with Argus, he is often telling me of his thoughts on such matters. It is actually rather tiresome, so please add your thoughts to his, so that I can hear them all at the same time," the Headmaster said with a wary sigh.

"That is not what I meant," argued Professor Snape, "and you know it was just a figure of speech."

The Headmaster did not answer; but one could see that frustrating twinkle in his eyes.

"Anyways, it is not—"

"Enough Severus!" the Headmaster thundered over Professor Snape. "Even with the bias evident in your argument, I have heard you out. Now, I grow weary of your arguments and whether or not you want me to forcefully eject him from the tournament, he has to take part. This is a non-negotiable contract that he has been entered into, and one would cease to have their magic, lest they break the oath bound by the contract."

"So unless you have something else to argue about, let us seek the council of our dear associates over here."

The room was devoid of any sound after their argument, as the truth of the reality over the contract that they had been bound had hit the Champions with a huge shock.

True, they may have been told earlier about this; but it was the fact that the unexpected Champion could not be forcefully ejected from the tournament that had made them understand.

After the realization had hit, Cedric looked on with pure shock, like he had swallowed something bitter. Fleur looked shocked herself...at first, but hid it after she regained control of her facial features, other than that, Harry could not read any other emotion, and Viktor Krum seemed even sulkier than ever, but Harry was unsure if that was what he had felt; or just how he always looked.

And as for Harry, he was well aware of this fact and understood it from the beginning, Hermione made sure they knew of this fact after hearing Fred and George plan out their ideas. But he was starting to get used to how unfair that bitch named fate seemed to treat him, so he just took the consequence with distaste but understanding.

"Alright, alright, now lets stop bantering and bickering among ourselves and get down to business. And as loathe as I am to agree with Severus," Bartemius said as he glared at the man with a look of contempt and disgust. "I myself wish there was something we could do to put a stop to this charade and relieve the boy from his chance at entering."

"But unfortunately, this is all done through a magically powerful and binding contract. One that had to be made where the contractor actually writes there own name on parchment and feeds it to the flames."

"I myself do not fully understand the logistics of how the Goblins had been able to discern the persons capabilities; but it has something to do with giving the goblet a semi-cognizance, in which it is able to read the magical traces and abilities of the people who enter their names into the lot."

"The problem with this is the fact that there was never a limitation of age in tournaments past. Which is the reason that we took extra precautions, since the goblet understands ability; but not age and experience. And unfortunately, we could only use external methods to prevent things such as this from happening."

"And what exzactly doos thees mean?" asked the Giantess of a Headmistress, Madame Maxime.

"I'll tell you what it means Olympe. It means that this oaf of a Wizard made a mistake with his spell and this useless little brat was able to sneak his name in," answered Professor Karkaroff.

"Possibly, but the boy says that he did not put his name in and I am inclined to believe him."

"Oh posh Albus," Professor McGonagall chimed in. "If you were to make such a mistake, then this here hack of a Wizard has never held a wand a day in his life."

"Then how do you propose—"

"I'll give you a scenario Igor," interrupted Mad-Eye Moody. "This boy is a famous Wizard. And with fame comes consequence. But this boy more than any, has many different enemies."

"You see, what you may have failed to notice from Barty's explanation, is the fact that nobody ever said that the boy himself had to put his name in. and if I may say so, I myself have to see plenty of papers that the boy has to put his name on each week. And then, do you think that a young lad such as himself would think to hide all of them with his name written on it. Not even I do that...yet."

"And then you have to think about the most important thing of all. This is a powerful artifact, and it would take nothing short of a truly powerful confundus could trick this thing into believing there were four schools instead of three."

"And you would know this how?" Karkaroff asked in the snidest tone of voice he could manage.

"Yes well, as you could no doubt understand through first-hand experience, I have spent my life tracking, learning, and understanding Dark Wizards. Simply said—as you yourself had learned thirteen years ago—I am quite apt at it."

"Alastor!" Professor Dumbledore shouted.

"Fine Albus, and I know what you want to say, but he asked and I only told him in the best way I knew how," Moody replied.

"Still, you need to learn to know when not to pursue a matter," the Headmaster said as he eyed the intrigued students within the room, hoping that no rumors spread.

From here on the room delved into random debates on the matter and in fact, nobody once even seemed to question Harry.

As for Harry, it was obvious to him that very few here believed that he had nothing to do with entering the tournament, especially the other students. Fleur herself had made that clear, as she chided and complained to her headmistress.

And Cedric, Harry had never thought ill of him, and in truth he still couldn't, even now; but it was obvious that he believed Harry to be the perpetrator and would not meet his eyes even once, he just sat there kind of shunning him.

Viktor though, he was the most confusing of his fellow Champions to figure out, as he just looked as surly as ever. Harry was beginning to believe that that was a natural expression for him, and unlike the others he sat off in solitude. Probably for the same reasons that Harry often does. Though it did shock him that before he left, he gave Harry a shrug that seemed to say: what can you do?

In the end, they were there in that room for over an hour, before they all agreed that there was nothing that could be done, short of forcing Harry to not participate and causing him to lose all of his magic. Something that Crouch pointed out, would cause a ruckus, making families withdraw their students and bring the Ministry Officials down on them.

And worst of all, the Champions found out that they would not even get to know what the First Task was until they were facing the challenge. So that none of them would even knew what to prepare for.

They did this in order to find out how the Champions would cope in the face of unexpected danger.

He wasn't boasting to himself; but Harry at least felt that he had a decent chance with this event, as he was accustomed to the unknown and unexpected. He just hoped that it wasn't as preposterous as fighting a manticore.

But then, they wouldn't do something as foolish as bringing a manticore onto school grounds... Would they? After his past few years here, he wasn't so confident that the answer would be no.

 **HPatWTS  
**

"Merlin" Harry cursed as he sat down next to Hermione, who like usual, was studying in the midst of the celebration of Gryffindor Tower.

One may wonder exactly why they were partying; but at the same time could easily guess the reason to be Harry's entrance into the tournament. It was a sad reality, after he got back from the tense atmosphere of that room. That one of the first things he discovered, was the joy that enveloped Gryffindor Common Room.

Though it was not only joy and a fondness that radiated the room; there was also a tense atmosphere from a good number of his dorm-mates as well.

"Seriously Harry, what have you done to piss The Fates off this much?" Hermione asked, giving him a wry smile. "I could just imagine three old women surrounding a ball of thread, trying to cut at your sting, every chance they got. Though luckily for you, it seems to be made of a tougher substance than their shears could cut...so far."

"You...actually believe me? That I didn't put my own name into that damned cup?" Harry asked, causing Hermione to exude a tense atmosphere for a moment.

"Harry..." she sighed. "Without a doubt I believe you...but please, don't take it too hard."

"What exactly are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Hermione quickly replied...almost too quickly.

"But if I were to seriously answer you. You were far too shocked when I pointed it out to you. And then there is the fact that you get moodier and moodier after every time something like this happens. So I know you would never intentionally do something like this."

"And I mean seriously, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that you would prefer to take a break from these do or die situations," after saying that she began to chuckle; then for some odd reason, her laughter became nervous.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, feeling an odd anxiety creep over him.

Harry was not sure exactly what was going on, she seemed sincere in believing him that he did not enter himself into the tournament, and to be honest, Hermione was a horrible liar, so he knew something was going on; but he was just too tired to figure out what.

"Harry, dear Harry," one of the Twins came over and put an arm around him, guiding him away from the study corner. And to make things even more concerning for himself, Hermione seemed to sigh a sigh of relief after he was led away.

"You have a party thrown in your name and the first thing you do is head over to the study buddy corner, I tell you, that girl seems to have you whipped."

"Only about as much as your mother does you. I mean, Hermione...and me... In my eyes, that would be like dating my own sister. True, I love her...but that would be in the same sense as you loving Ginny."

"Hey, I resent hearing that. Why do you think we are all reds, that is because we are pure of blood and our parents marry us off to others of our family!"

"..." Harry stared at the unnamed twin blankly.

"Well, it is kind of true. I think mum and dad are like seventh cousins, two or three times removed. Something like that or other. But if actually look at the Pure-Blood families, most of them are closely related, marrying first and second cousins. And Merlin's salty balls, if I remember correctly, there was a family called the Gaunt's, and they died off in the past due to inbreeding."

"You know, father and daughter, brother and sister, along with mother and son. All of that just to keep their line pure...and I believe that a few other families died off in such a way."

"So don't be too weirded out if you say that to a Wizard and they just shrug off with a smile... No, actually, be weirded out," the twin laughed.

"Oi, Fred, slosh him some butterbeer!" George yelled out like a drunk.

"Anyways, come, join us, party with us! You cannot escape it. Tell us how you put your name in!" he said, as he pulled Harry down and put him into a headlock. "We must know."

After a moment, Harry muffled something out.

"What was that?" George asked.

"I said, I have no clue on how my name got in."

"Oh, come on. Why won't ickle Haarykins tell us?"

"I would, if I knew how; but I can't tell you if I don't know," Harry repeated himself.

"Oh come on—"

"George, look at him," Fred interrupted.

"Ah, your right...I didn't see that one coming. But if it is our dear little ickle Harrykins here, well it is possible."

"Well, you do us proud," Fred said, putting a hand onto Harry's shoulder.

"What?"

"Well, you know, with all of the trouble you get yourself into and all that. Well, we figured out just now, that it should be about that time, so if that is the case, take your butterbeer and go upstairs to rest, we shall enjoy the party enough for you."

"Thanks Fred," Harry said, as he retreated to his dorm.

 **HPatWTS  
**

It took a while, for Harry to slowly ascend the stairs, as he was still trying to come to terms with what happened today. For Harry, he still was quite shocked; but at the same time, he was expecting somebody to come after his life today. It was something that happened with quite a bit of regularity on this day in question.

Well, there was arguably the fact that in his second year, it was not him that got attacked. Though the perpetrator had basically left him a calling card, with a message attached.

And then there was the fact that last year, it was not him that Sirius was after. No, not him, but Peter Pettigrew. Though the man was thinking so irrationally that he made it seem as if he was coming after Harry.

So, in all reality, it was not like Halloween was too bad for him; his parents death aside, it was just that every year, Halloween was the day that rung the gong and pulled the trigger that started the race that headed towards the day that fucked up the life of Harry Potter, for the year.

Basically, what today told Harry was that like every year in this Wizarding World before, the bell has just tolled, and the bitch that was fate, just laughed happily smacking Harry, while scorning him to his face...one of these days he would love to sever those strings they attached to him...just without the, you know...immanent death part.

As he walked into his room, Harry realized exactly what he had been too preoccupied earlier too. And that was the fact that Ron was not downstairs; but sitting up here in the dim candlelight, with an expression on his face that could be best described as nothing short of, listless.

"Oh, hey Harry," he said, barely looking at his best friend, before staring back into the oblivion that be the night outside the window.

"How was the party downstairs? They started celebrating it for you, while you were down meeting with the Professors and Ministry Representatives."

"So, how did it go?"

"I expect that Dumbledore would not allow them to cast you out of the tournament, not with the severity of the consequences and all that. Bloody hell mate, I doubt that even Snape could come up with a reason good enough for them to cast you out," Ron replied in an unemotional manner that he never seen aimed at Harry before.

Confused, Harry began to explain: "It wasn't for a lack of trying. Though even if Snape did not succeed in getting them to make me forfeit the contract and lose all of my magic; he most certainly did succeed in turning them against me."

"You know the drill—he has been crossing the lines since the beginning Albus, and you need to reign him in—and all that crap."

With a deep intake of breath, Harry laid back and sighed.

He was trying to figure it out, Ron was never really listless like this and if anybody, it should be Harry over there acting like that. So he sat there in silence in the silence of the moment. Confused and curious. What could make his friend act like this.

It was only a few moments later that he found out the cause: "Harry, sorry if you don't want to talk about it. I mean, I thought if you had a way in, I thought you would tell me—"

Sound cut off on Harry as he sat in this moment, shocked about what he had just heard. It felt as if time and the reality of the moment just stopped.

"What...?" Harry asked, unsure if he heard Ron right.

"Come on Harry, we're best mates. Right?"

"I mean, I can understand if you didn't want anybody to know; but we have been through a lot together and you can trust me."

Befuddled, Harry stared at Ron uncomprehendingly. He knew that there were certain times that Ron could act like a git; but this was just the icing on top of the cake. What better way to ruin ones day, than to have ones best friend believe him guilty.

 _Fate...you truly are a cruel bitch. You know that. Right?_ Harry thought to himself.

In the back of Harry's mind he felt as if he could hear a loud cackling. One like muggles depicted of a Witch from the days of old...or The Wizard of Oz.

Breathing, quietly and deeply, Harry tried to maintain his composure before asking: "Why Ron, would you believe I put my name in the goblet?"

"Well, there are plenty of reasons one would. The fame and glory that one could get with the prestige of winning the cup, the money that you could win."

"And Bloody hell Harry. Do you know how much a thousand Galleons is worth?"

"Roughly...no, I do not."

"Well, you remember how my father could barely even tell the difference between those muggle pieces of paper and Wizarding money?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, my dad began asking Bill about the exchange rate from Muggle to a Galleon, and Bill had told him that 1 Galleon was roughly near 100 Pounds. Which he said could be a rather substantial amount in the Muggle World."

"Though, he also mentioned about how for exchange, the Goblins charge a ten percent fee for exchange when the sum is small; but for a large exchange they drop it to three percent rate," Ron replied, seeming as if he began to feel nervous.

"Yes, that is nice," Harry said, realizing that he really did have a fortune in his account, and was surprised about how much stuff costed to use at school. But then, he had heard from Collin that the school also provided for the Muggle-Borns that could not afford it.

"But what does that have to do with me entering the tournament?"

"Well, the other day you did say that it would be nice to actually participate in the tournament," Ron replied sheepishly.

"As did you. Now do you want to repeat what it was exactly that happened during the last tournament that they held? You know, what Hermione told us about?"

"So what if a manticore ran amok over a century ago. We both know that they are going to make it much safer this time."

"But why are you still playing ignorant Harry. If you like the money, if you want the fame, it doesn't matter to me. Just don't lie to me about it."

This was the final straw that snapped. Harry was quite sure that coming back from meeting with the tournament officials and school heads, he would come back here, sit down with Ron and Hermione, and have a good laugh at how fucked up his life was.

What a joke that thought was. He was now beginning to understand what had Hermione so nervous and why she was so glad to see him pulled away. She didn't want to have to be the one to explain that Ron's overzealous ego had pulled him in, once again.

He could understand the fact that Ron was jealous of him. He had five brothers he had to compete with, got average grades, and his family was poor.

Yes, Harry could understand that.

The problem was, that Ron could not understand that there are worse things in life than being poor.

And to top matters off that made it even worse was, that Ron understood well that Harry hated his fame. That fame came with a price that he would gladly refund.

But worst of all, the thing he couldn't stand about Ron's jealousy. And for him to act this way, on this night of all nights.

"Ron..." as he said this, his normally vibrant eyes became dull. "You just accused me of being ignorant right?" his voice became a cold chilly whisper.

"Yet do you realize how unbecoming jealousy can make you? I will point out that with what you have just said, you are far more ignorant than I am."

As a sign of danger, Ron's ears took on a dark crimson hue.

"No Ron, you always have your say. So shut up and listen for once. Or do you think friendships are a one way street? You get to have your say all of the time and I have to keep my mouth shut."

"I have put up with this unreasonable jealousy since first year. I have money, yes, true. But yet I have to be careful and not mention it."

"Do you believe money is everything? I have lived in a household with a rather well off family for thirteen years, and your fucking clothes are better than mine."

"In the Muggle World I am no richer than you are. So...it may be true that I have Galleons; but other than when I am at your place, when am I even in the Magical World, and even then I spend as much on you and Hermione as I do on myself."

"This is not out of obligation or flaunting my money, it is because I actually enjoy doing things for my friends...and then, how often do you have to go and spoil it. Arguing about how this is too much, in a way that makes a person feel as if they had done something wrong."

"You yourself saw the living conditions I had in second year. A lock on my door, a slit in the door to insert food. I may have gotten fed...cold cans of soup; but it was more like a prison."

"Those are the living conditions you are ever so jealous of. And the worst part is, that you know it. Or do you think it was a joke after you saw me being locked in my room like Rupunzel, and I told you about how they gifted me the ever so luxurious cupboard under the stairs until I got my Hogwarts letter."

"That was no joke."

"And the fame...the fucking fame...are you fucking kidding me?"

"I am fourteen, and so fucking famous that I already have books on my, quote on quote, defeat of the Dark Lord, at the age of one. And that fame has brought me nothing but misery. So, why would I want more?"

"You act as if you have nothing Ron, and if you truly feel that way. I pity you for the fool you are. You have a fucking family that cares."

"If you almost die, your family worries; mine tell me to make sure I get it right and actually die next time."

"Or would you prefer that your family be murdered off, just so you could have a few lousy Galleons, along with the fame that is so double bladed that one minute you are lauded, and the next you are criticized for being evil and dark...just like in second year."

"But truly, do you want to know what is pissing me off right now?"

"When the Dementors attacked me last year, do you know what I saw, every time they affected me?" Harry's voice got icier and chilled Ron to the bone.

Ron gulped.

Harry smiled a sad smile before answering, "My mother pleading and begging for me to be spared; before a maniac turned his wand on her and killed her. She even begged for him to take her life instead of mine."

With that, Harry turned over and fell asleep. While Ron had realized that he had said something so irrevocable that it may never be mended. And if it was, they would never be the friends they once were.

He felt ashamed.


	2. Chapter 2

**In a few days time, the chapters following this will be removed. Chapter 2 has been written; just needs some editing and will probably be up next week.**

 **I have to apologize, I wanted this up a few days ago; but with bad allergies acting up, I did not trust my own editing. Allergies can clog your mind...they suck!**

 _ **Rewrite: 09/21/17**_

 **Chapter 1**

For Harry, who had relatively few friends, the time after his name came out of the goblet was the worst. Not only had he lost his best friend; but the school seemed to become the worst place he could imagine.

Day after day, night after night, he was antagonized, referred to as a liar, and scorned by most all he came into contact with.

While one would have thought that this to have been narrowed down to two single houses acting this way, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. One who always held an antagonistic view towards him...well, at least the only ones to have interacted with him, and the ones who believed themselves to be wronged, and felt as if Harry had stolen what little glory their house may have gained.

Well, anybody who would have believed that, would have been wrong.

No, not only Hufflepuff and Slytherin; but also a majority of Ravenclaw, and a good few Gryffindor's as well, shunned him. It seemed that everybody that did not know Harry, took this as a personal offense and began whispering as he passed, in such an obvious way that it was beginning to piss him off.

And to top it all off, it was not as if he had not been defending himself; but nobody seemed to believe him. This was just like second year all over again... No, actually this was far worse, because it was not only isolated to this school; but the others as well.

If he was still friends with Ron, this may have been bearable; but that went down the river when he decided to join the majority belief. Not that Harry didn't realize that Ron didn't really believe any of this (he wasn't sure if Hermione thought him a fool when trying to persuade him of this, he understood it well) but Ron had too many jealousy issues and pushed Harry with them at the wrong time.

What Harry could not forgive was neither Ron's actions that night; nor the fact that he was jealous. It was the fact that even after the argument, whether it was from shame or just an inability to take decisive action, he just stood there and watched, making not a single comment as Harry was ridiculed.

Ron had caused the rift between them with his actions, but what had Harry bothered, was that even in this situation, Ron just sat back and watched. Had Harry been in his shoes, he may not have liked it, but he would still have defended Ron. The thing he valued most was friendship and it did not come cheap from Harry, as he never had any friends growing up, for too long, which made them all the more precious to him, and he knew for a fact that he would die for them, as he almost did for Ron's little sister, who Harry barely even knew, in his second year. But Ron continuously let a little jealousy consume him.

So...Harry got fed up with it. That was the real reason Harry ignored Hermione's constant advice and nagging, not wanting to make friends with Ron again.

But then...Harry was not even sure if a continuous friendship with Ron would have helped him, through this time. You see, there was an even worse offense committed against him.

One day, out of nowhere, Draco Malfoy showed his pretentious arrogant sneer in front of Harry. Normally, nothing that Malfoy could do, would ever be more than a nuisance to Harry; but this day proved that thought to be wrong.

At first, Draco had shown him a button that he was wearing. It read:

 **SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY:**

 **THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION**

This was something that had not really bothered Harry very much, since it was the truth. But the other side to this coin was the real problem, once this button was tapped, it then read:

 **HARRY POTTER STINKS**

Truthfully, this would never have really bothered him. It was Draco Malfoy after all, and Harry never put much stock into what a Malfoy thought. But the real horror had come after that.

Apparently Draco had used his father's hard extorted money, in order to buy a whole bunch of buttons, and then paid a gifted charms student in order to enchant them. And this person had made them rather difficult to disenchant, before Draco started handing them out.

So now, most students within the school had actually started to wear them, while the other schools found them rather amusing.

So during this time, all Harry could do, was go to the Library and get in touch with his inner Hermione, finding out just how much better he was on practical applications, compared to theory and history of a spell, as long as he truly applied himself.

It was a sad world for Harry, once again he was relegated to hiding in the libraries for peace of mind. It almost reminded him of back in the Dudley days; but much, much worse.

At least back then, he did not have what seemed like the entire school after him; just Dudley's gang. The rest of the students just outright ignored the weird kid dressed in bad hand me downs, wearing broken glasses, who was hated by his cousin, the school bully.

 **HPatWTS**

"Listen Susan, I don't understand why you are defending him. I mean, how can you not tell that Harry Potter cheated his way into the tournament?" this was a conversation that stopped Harry in his tracks before turning 'round a corner, one day.

Stopping to listen, the voice began again, "Suzy, I just don't understand how you can have doubts about this?"

Easing his way to look around the corner, Harry saw two girls standing face to face, neither looking in his direction.

From what he saw, on one side, you had Hannah Abbot, a pretty blond, with icy cold eyes; but a demeanor that before today, Harry would have thought pleasant. Apparently he was wrong.

Standing opposite her, Harry could guess that it was none other than Susan Bones, a sporty red head, that was almost as pretty as her friend.

Harry had little to do with either, over the years, but he could remember the look of fear he got from Hannah back in second year, as she thought he wanted to kill her friend Justin. After all of these years, she still had not learned to stop jumping to conclusions.

"Listen Hannah," Susan said in an exasperated voice. "I understand that you are mad at him. And I even understand why; but did you even take a look at him after his name was called from the cup?"

"Why would I have done that?" she asked, seeming seriously confused.

"I don't know, maybe to get a read on the person you consider the perpetrator," Susan replied, and Harry could even feel it as she rolled her eyes; despite not being able to see her face.

"But honestly Han, he was completely dumbstruck when his name came out. He didn't even respond for nearly a minute, and finally after he started walking, it seemed like he had a look of trepidation and horror on his face."

"Yes, because he knew that he got caught."

"Think about this logically Han, if he were to have put his name into the goblet, and then enter it so that a fourth name came out. Do you think he would try and act innocent. There are only two types that would do that, the first is the innocent, while the second would be the greatest of actors, and I do not think that Harry Potter is a great actor."

"I have seen him try and lie before, and he wasn't very good at it. Actually, I think he got two weeks detention from Professor McGonagall for it," Susan replied with a chuckle.

Harry grimaced. He remembered that day well, he was playing with an invention of the Twins in class and he now knows never to do that again, because it blew up. He told Professor Sprout that it wasn't him; but unfortunately Professor McGonagall came in at that moment. If it were just Professor Sprout that found out—at least before his name came out of the goblet—he would probably have gotten away with just a slap on the wrist. But not that day.

 **POV: Hannah**

"You never know, he may have just been trying to trick everybody?" Hannah argued.

"Oh, so now he is some great master manipulator, who just had an off day, causing himself to be hated by the entire school? Wow Hannah, I thought you would think things through better than that?"

"I doubt he is somebody who thinks of manipulating others. And if you had ever paid any attention to him, instead of letting others manipulate your thoughts with idle gossip, you would have realized that he seems to hate his fame."

"You really believe that he hates his fame?" Hannah replied with an exasperated familiarity. This arrogance was her most infuriating trait, which may not be as bad as Malfoy, per se, but it was too obvious to miss in her bearing. "Why would somebody not want to be famous?"

"I'll answer that for you, very easily," and as she said this, Hannah could feel a lonely sadness emanating from her voice. "When they get their fame from a lunatic murdering their parents..."

"Suzy..." Hannah said, as she stepped in close to give her a hug. "I am sorry. But you also have to think, he is not you."

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say, as Susan pushed Hannah away. "Do you think this is some kind of joke!?" Susan asked.

"Suzy...I don't know what to say...I mean, even his own best friend disowned him. So if he couldn't believe in him, how could you? ...How could I?"

"Ronald Weasley? Susan asked in disgust. "I have all the respect for the Weasley's, that is due to them. They are a great lot. But Ronald Weasley...I don't know. Ever since we were young, he reminded me of Draco Malfoy, far too much."

"Not Draco's bigotry, or anything like that, but his short temper and the way he deals with people."

"...Yeah, he is kind of arrogant in that aspect. Even the other day, he had poor Eloise crying over the way she looks, and then there was first year, do you remember how badly he treated Granger... She may have been a bit overbearing, but that was just way too much," Hannah replied.

"And that is why I will not trust his judgment. If you have ever watched the boy around Harry, he often gets jealous over the attention he gets, going as far as to give him the cold shoulder."

Hannah began to grin.

"W-what are you giving me that knowing smirk for?" Susan asked, seeming a bit nervous.

"Oh nothing—" she said. Her smirk becoming even more unbearable. "It's just that after all of this time, I thought you might not have liked boys...a few times I even considered that you may have preferred the company of other girls," her grin now becoming wolfish, "But it seems that I need not have worried about that."

"Your sights were set awfully high."

"But still, I can't understand what you see in him. That bloody boy has too much trouble following him, even if he is as innocent as you seem to think."

"Because I prefer personality over a pretty face," Susan replied, her face flushing at the implication of what Hannah deduced.

Hannah though, she started blushing furiously herself.

"Don't get me wrong Han, Cedric is a great guy. But in my eyes, he seems a bit too perfect. Quidditch aside, he is the most handsome guy at school, along with being one of the smartest and most talented. Even his name came out of the cup. Don't you think that he seems just a little too perfect?"

Hannah just stared blankly at Susan, what she had said left Hannah feeling the incredulity of that statement. Too perfect? Was there such a thing?

"Basically I am saying that I am not attracted to guys like that. I prefer somebody who seems a bit more...normal," replied Susan.

"But, if I had to give you a perfectly good reason for believing that he is innocent. It is because Aunty Amy taught me to trust my instincts."

"Not to be bound by them, I tell you. But to trust them, while at the same time, she taught me to read people," Susan said, as she looked back on something distant.

 **POV: Susan**

Susan thought back.

"You remember all of those times that I was brought to work with my Aunty?" she asked, remembering some of the gruesome and horrible things she had ended up hearing about.

"Sure, happens every year," Hannah replied, looking at Susan curiously.

It was no surprise to Susan, the eager look she got, Hannah was always curious about why she came back looking so grim.

"Well, on those days, she takes me to watch some of the trials, all the while, having me listen to the interrogations—and no, they are nothing like rumored, no torture, nothing of the sort."

"While Fudge may have made it illegal to use veritiserum, there are other means to get the truth...less credible, but it does get them information. Even if they can't use it in the courts."

"And some the horrors that I have heard some of them admit to. Honestly I don't want to reminisce, but that can't be helped either," she said as she seemed to hang her head in a dejected, almost repulsed manner.

"I won't go into details, but she has me do this in order to understand...and I think to try and dissuade me out of becoming an Auror. But the looks in the eyes of the guilty, often even the best of liars and actors can't hide it—true, they may not always be convicted, but there is a deep rooted fear of being found out."

"Okay, there are those that are great at hiding their thoughts...I think Snape and the Headmaster are that sort. But that is the reason she has me go, is in order to understand...to know."

"Like Moody often says," Susan said through the haze of reminiscence. "Constant vigilance. That is what my Aunty wants to teach me."

"And that is why I believe Harry Potter to be innocent. Not because of some schoolgirl crush; but because he seems genuine. Not that I don't doubt he breaks a good many school rules. But then...

who doesn't?"

"My hair might be red," she said, as she swished her medium length hair forward, grabbing it by the end of her ponytail and lifting it up to show Hannah. "But I am not Ginny Weasley."

 **POV: Harry Potter**

He couldn't help it. He tried; but he just couldn't, Harry started to quietly laugh. It had been a while, since he had felt so much mirth bubble up inside of him.

Not Ginny, red hair. It shouldn't be, but it was just so damned funny...and true.

He could appreciate the merit of truth to that statement also. Ginny had been so smitten with him, since before they had even met. So much so, that it makes sense to everybody, that she was almost as much a fangirl, as Collin Creevey was a fanboy—though thankfully not in so much a bothersome way.

Come to think of it, over the years, they had only had a handful of conversations. Not that he disliked her, of course. She just had a tendency to run away when he spoke to her.

But he was glad. This was the first time in the past week, that somebody other than Hermione, his teammates, Ginny, or Neville had defended him. Though truth be told, he had only had a few conversations with either girl, and only when they had ended up at the same work station in Herbology.

But again, he was thankful for the defense.

Other than that though, he was definitely miffed about the way this Hannah girl acted. It was reminiscent of the way she acted in second year, when she thought he wanted to kill Justin Finch-Fletchley...and it was every bit as ridiculous as the spell to get rid of a bogart.

Looking at his watch, Harry realized that he had only ten minutes to get to class and Snape was bad on normal occasions, but if he were to be late after being accepted into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he could expect hell.

Gathering up that little Gryffindor courage of his, he set his shoulders straight, finally turned the corner, walked straight passed Hannah and Susan. Throwing Susan a grateful smile (which he noticed caused her to blush) and a bland glance towards Hannah, before averting his eyes, from that look of utter contempt he had been getting from puffs, as of late.

Then he found himself making his descent towards the dungeons.

 **HPatWTS**

Today in Potion's Class, Harry sat in a fit of rage after Hermione was sent up to the nurse's office, from being hit by a stray spell—after he and Malfoy started firing spells at each-other in the hall.

Slowly breathing, he tried to calm the rage in his heart, that he was directing towards the Professor—how could they allow such a petty man to teach students? Someone like him who would joyfully make a young girl run in tears.

Harry knew he was no expert on women, but to tell a young girl, who just had their teeth enlarged by five inches, that he saw no difference to prove that she was hit by a spell—especially a girl who already had a complex about the size of her front teeth, was no longer bullying, but just downright disgusting.

Bringing Harry back to consciousness, was the sound of a knock on the door. Which disturbed him from his fantastic fantasies of using the cruciatus curse on the greasy haired git, who in his imagination, was writhing on the floor of the Potions Lab, screaming, pleading and begging for mercy; as none came.

As the "Professor" opened the door (much to his displeasure) a very nervous Collin Creevey stood on the other-side, fidgeting and beginning to look mortified.

"What is your reason for disturbing my class? And it better be good, or you will be spending the remainder of this month with Filch scrubbing the halls like some common Muggle…but then, you are a Muggle-Born, so I guess you would be used to such things already," the Professor said, gaining the laughter of several Slytherin's a few Gryffindor's the silent ire of quite a few Muggleborn's and Halfblood's alike.

It was obvious with just a glance, but Collin was getting more and more nervous by the second, as he tried to find the words but stumbled over them a few times before finally being able to say, "I'm sorry sir…um, Professor McGonagall sent me to get Harry Potter sir."

A flash of unsuppressed rage crossed the Professor's face.

"You do realize that at this very moment, we are in the middle of what we call class? Meaning that you are not taking students in the middle of it," the Professor drawled in a way that seemed reminiscent of the Malfoy's.

"Sir," Collin said, averting his eyes. "I know, but the Professor said that Harry needs to go to the Great Hall, right now. They have the reporters there," at the sound of these words, there were a great many snickers form across the room, "and there is some function for the Champions going on...something called the wand weighing."

As Collin said all of that, he had a smile on his face that had told him that he felt proud of the fact that Harry was about to be interviewed...Harry felt sick.

But probably not as sick as Snape who looked like he had just swallowed some vile bug...or maybe it was a flobberworm. Harry was unsure, but the thought of either made his heart soar, from the thought of it.

" **Just go!"** the Professor shouted. And Harry could tell from one look, that this was furthest from what he wanted...to let the pretentious Potter inflate his ego in front of the reporters; but he had no choice. **"Take that arrogant brat and get lost. And do it now, before I start handing out detentions for disturbing my class!"**

Even before he started yelling, Harry had already been gathering up his things in haste. He no more wanted to be in this class, than Snape wanted him here. So it was a relatively quick clean up for him.

And most of all, what he was thankful for, was that today was the day they were supposed to test their antidotes. Sadly though, it was an antidote made with him working with Neville, and neither of them were very apt at making a potion.

Mostly due to the interference of people like Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy. But not only them, Snape seems to encourage the whole scenario, with both a sneer and a leer.

Quickly making their way out of the room, both Harry and Collin made their way towards the Great Hall, where the wand weighing was to begin.

For some time they were both quiet. Harry not wanting to provoke the boy who over-glorifies Harry's name, while Collin seemed to be off somewhere else.

Finally, after about five minutes, Collin asked what was on his mind, "Harry," he said, eyes gleaming with that fanatical curiosity that he had, when it came to everything Potter.

"I was just curious, you don't have to answer if you don't want. But I was just curious...How did you get your name in the goblet?"

Harry let out a deep sigh.

Looking at Collin, he figured he would at least try the truth.

"Listen Collin," Harry said, feeling frustrated at the fanatical look that graced the face of the young boy. "I did not put my name into the cup."

"Honestly," he sighed, "I wish I knew how it got in there."

But that was obviously not the answer Collin was looking for. Like most other Wizards, he seemed to believe in the masses. Often Harry wondered if it was some sort of Wizarding religion that nobody told him of. Because, in the Wizarding World, rumor seemed to become reality; while reality seemed to become nothing more than the whispering wind.

He was quite sure that if someone were to tell most Witches and Wizards that if something they knew had happened hadn't. If enough people gathered behind that claim, they would begin to believe it themselves.

"Damn it Collin!" Harry yelled, anger seeping into his every pore.

"You! Everybody! Why the hell do you have to make me out to be some sort of liar!?"

"Is that how I seem to you all? Like a liar?" Harry raged.

"Think back through these past few years since you have entered this bloody damned forsaken school. Have I gone around telling nothing but lies?"

"In second year I was also made out to be a Dark Lord; despite never having shown a single ounce of animosity towards Muggle-Borns like yourself and most importantly, Hermione."

"Does because of the fact that I have neither the requisite knowledge on how to either get passed that aging line, nor the ability to become a Dark Lord matter nothing to facts?"

"All just because you either want to set me up on some bloody damned pedestal, or throw my name onto the floor, allowing all to step onto it."

"I-I'm sorry Harry," Collin stammered, seeming shocked. "But it is hard to believe somebody else put your name in. And then there is the why?"

Despite what Harry may feel of his fan-boy attitude, he had to admit that Collin was somewhat bright in his questioning. Though that mattered not to him, since Collin seemed to have still come to the same conclusion as the others.

"Why? Why would anybody want to put the boy who is famed for having somehow vanquished the man who once led the Pure-Blood Movement, into the most dangerous tournament to hit the three schools in ages?"

"Despite the fact that he had never actually done anything for them, he had many followers. And do you believe that all of his fanatical followers gave up on following him, just because he is no longer around?"

Collin walked deep in thought. Harry did not know what was on his mind, or if he just thought Harry's words bravado. But he did not truly care about the answer. To him, if a person continued to believe him a liar; despite all of his protests, then he would not find them worth the effort to convince. Nor would he try.

It was only a few more minutes for their walk and through it all, Collin continued to look contemplative. Not saying a word, even as they reached the doors to the Great Hall and departed each-others company.

 **HPatWTS**

Upon entering the room, Harry looked around. There was nothing special about it, it was just the Great Hall, with the tables removed. Well, all of them except the staff table, which held the ruling council of the tournament. Crouch, Bagman, Karkaroff and Madame Maxime...though Professor Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen.

Oddly enough, there was one exception added to the ranks. It was the old creepy guy who sold Harry his wand, Mr. Ollivander. He was sitting up at the table idly chatting with Madame Maxime, who seemed to be laughing at something he said.

Seated at a table, a bit lower down, as if to say that they were to look up at the judges, was where the Champions were sitting. The other three already there. Cedric chatting up Fleur, who seemed not to mind the attention, actually, she seemed to rather enjoy the company of someone not quite close; but almost somewhat as pretty as her. And Viktor Krum, who as usual, looked rather surly; but at the same time, confident. More confident than what Harry believed a person should feel.

But then, that was probably what you could expect from a boy who played quidditch on a professional stage.

In an attempt to make his way over to the other Champions, Harry was quite confused when he was dragged from behind. Catching only the top of the head of a Witch. Harry could not make out who. Nor did her figure resemble that of anybody Harry could recall.

Only moments later, Harry found himself cramped up in a broom closet, with a rather short but gaudy looking Witch, of unknown origins.

Well, unknown until she put a quill to her tongue and licked it. A strange habit, but the predatory look in her eyes and the way she held the quill to a parchment. It reminded Harry of those: When Stars Attack, shows that Aunt Petunia loved.

She was paparazzi.

This did not surprise Harry, reluctant though he was, for this interview to happen.

Though, how could he be? He was young, famous and idolized. Why wouldn't they mark him.

"Harry, Harry dear. You don't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill, do you?"

"No, of course you don't," she added in, before he could even begin to ask what a Quick-Quotes Quill was.

"Alright, now what I needed to ask you is, how exactly did you put your name in the cup?"

"I-I I didn't," Harry replied, stumbling over his own words, confused about the bluntness of the question.

"Oh, come now Harry," she replied, leaning forward, quill tip against her lip. "You do know, that you need not fear consequences of answering the question. Our readers do so love a rebel," she said, giving him a knowing smile.

Harry noticed it, as she said it. But she never said that he wouldn't get into trouble. Only that her readers love a rebel. This was one of those things tat he had heard about, how people can manipulate others without telling a lie and saying only what they felt that you needed to hear. In a misdirecting way.

Shaking his head, she moved on. Not waiting for a reply. Quill scratching to the side—not the one she had in her hand; but the one hovering over a parchment, where he would be unable to read it.

"How about it, how do you think your parents would feel, had they lived to see this day. You participating in such a prestigious tournament?" smirking, she eyed him up and down. Like a piece of meat, fed to the ravenous wolves. "Where so many have died."

"I have no clue," Harry replied, feeling uneasy about the way this woman seemed to be disregarding every question, before he could even answer.

Inching over, as the woman did not pay attention, Harry was finally able to get a look at what was being written.

 _With tears in his eyes, Harry began to recount his thoughts and ideals on his deceased parents. "I think they would be proud, my parents." He said, through unwashed tears. "I know that they loved me. Something I think none would dispute. I mean, look at how they died for me—_

"What in Morgana's saggy tits is this?" Harry cursed loudly. "Where the hell are these so called tears? And—"

"It is fan service, sweetheart. The readers will eat it all up," she replied, not seeming to care.

"And what of this stuff that I did not say?"

"It is subjective. You do not need fear reprisal from the readers, they prefer a white lie, to the truth of the mundane."

This Harry could easily believe. Witches and Wizards are fickle creatures. Not unlike Muggles, they tend to believe what is printed, over what was true.

Truth or lie, Harry was beginning to get a headache. He really could not stand people like this and what made it even more sad was, the fact that people believe a person like this, over him, who was not pathological in his lies.

Sitting back, Harry let out a sigh of frustration. Trying to figure out why he was even in this room, being interviewed, if what he said, or how he truly acted, was not even going to be written.

It was then, just before he was about to let out a howl of frustration, that the door opened, admitting Professor Dumbledore. Lemon drop and all.

"Rita," the Headmaster said,inclining his head in way of greeting.

 _That's who she was_ , Harry thought to himself. Rita, he had heard that name before. _Rita Skeeter,_ he thought.

He remembered over the summer, how she had slandered Arthur Weasley's name. Mentioning how incompetent he was, in his handling of the attack on the Muggles, at the World Cup.

"Ah, if it isn't the Headmaster and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. You've been doing fine I presume?" the reporter named Rita Skeeter replied with an air of unconcerned supremacy.

"Ah yes, I have been doing fine. Well, there was that time that this reporter got it in her head to make up some stuff and try to discredit my sanity. But since that did not work, I think I have been doing rather well for myself," the Headmaster replied in a way that made her scowl. Harry could easily guess who that reporter was.

"But enough of that, you have had my student long enough to figure out how you will slander him and I need to bring him back so that we could start the weighing of the wands."

"Yes, yes, we have had enough time together. You may take him," Rita replied, as if she were doing him a favor.

"Oh my, what a gracious lady you are," the Headmaster replied with a mock bow.

 **HPatWTS**

"Harry," the Headmaster quietly said, after they were a good distance away from the broom closet. "I know you are not keen on reporters or your fame. But I caution you of this one thing. Be wary of Rita Skeeter."

"Yes, I think—"

"No, you don't. This I caution you of, because of her approach on things. She has a tendency to build up the character of any she deems worthy and reputable. And then is when she sinks her fangs into them. She is like a snake, the caliber of which you found in the deepest depths of this school."

"Maybe even more so, since that creature had only appeared twice in history, attacking students."

"Well, there were other reports of it showing up, throughout the centuries...but those don't seem to match up with what we have seen," Dumbledore mused to himself. Giving Harry the most crazy notion that he may actually want to go back into the depths of the school. To the Chamber of Secrets and actually for once, explore the place.

But what really sucked was, that he did not want to go alone and Hermione would never except the idea. Damn, it really sucked for him, having so few friends to count on. He didn't want to bring the Twins, he wanted someplace not even they knew of. Ginny...no... Neville, well, Neville was a good person; but was rather lacking in the courage department.

It really sucked.

"But seriously," the Headmaster said, giving him an amused and knowing shake of the head, as he stared intently at Harry. "She will build you up, then attack, sinking her fangs into you. Making you seem like some sort of menace."

"There have been many that this tactic has worked on and you would be her crowning achievement, if she could pull it off. Since this seems to be her true ambition, not writing, but the destruction she could cause with her words. And she does have something of a cultist type following," the Headmaster warned.

"And do be sure not to get caught sneaking into Myrtle's bathroom," the Headmaster replied enigmatically. "It is one thing to get caught sneaking out at night; but a complete other to be found sneaking into the little girl's loo. So finding a new entrance, from the inside, might be your best bet."

And with that, Harry felt as if he were completely seen through. Sometimes, he felt as if the Headmaster could see exactly what was in his thoughts, read his mind. It creeped him out, especially since they were Wizards and it may be possible to do just that.

With a twinkle of the eyes, along with a little wink, the Headmaster parted ways with him there. Leaving Harry utterly befuddled.

He needed to check in to the validity of his notion and quick. The Headmaster was not the only one who gave him that vibe, but Snape too. And it was bad enough thinking that it was possible from the Headmaster, but he absolutely did not want Snape in his head. Maybe if it was true, there would be a way to counteract it.

And with that fear, the weighing of the wands began.

 **HPatWTS**

It was morning, a couple of days later, when Harry entered the Great Hall, confused about the animosity he felt geared towards himself, from the Hufflepuff table. As well as the contemptuous glances of many of the Slytherins.

As of late, it had often been like this; but today was worse for some reason.

Shaking his head, Harry made his way over to the seat Hermione had left open for him. Where he decided to ask, "What the hell is up with this lot? It's like my name came out of the goblet all over again."

With a sigh, she handed over today's paper. It was an article written by that lady, the one who dragged him into the closet the other day, which was written stating about the things he saw the quill writing, him supposedly crying over thoughts of his dead parents.

But he got even more confused after that, it starts talking about how he had only failed to capture the snitch once in a quidditch game, how he was always instrumental in the winnings of the House Cup and finally, about his love life with...Muggle-Born girl, Hermione Granger?

When Harry turned his view to the side, he couldn't help but laugh, as he saw Hermione's unsuppressed chuckle.

"So—" Harry asked, unable to hide the mirth. "When exactly did we start going out?"

"Apparently we became lovers as soon as Collin," she said, pointing a glare towards him, who was only a few seats down the table, "decided we were."

"I see..." Harry said, nodding his head. "And obviously Collin would know better than either of us."

Collin, at this was looking a bit abashed and was about to open his mouth, before deciding it was too much a hassle and seating himself further away, looking ashamed.

"But Harry," she began to ask, "you do realize the implications of this?"

Harry stared at her blankly.

She sighed.

"Other than you and Viktor Krum, the famous people, it speaks nothing of the other Champions—Well, it does; but very little."

"On top of that, they seemed to even get Cedric's name wrong and with your reputation as of late..."

"People are going to hate me even worse now. More people with the badges and more criticism. And on top of that, it is going to spread to you, by association," Harry replied for her.

"Don't worry about that," Hermione retorted smilingly. "My name has always been in the muck, yours can't pull a busybody like me down any further."

But they both knew that was wrong. Guilt by association, that was how the Wizarding World worked. In second year she got away from it, by being Muggle-Born herself, as well as getting petrified. But this year, people are either going to try floating towards her, in order to be well-known by being associated with someone associated to Harry. Or try to getting into his good graces themselves.

Along with the fact that she was already being shunned by some, just for being Harry's friend. This was a messed up world.

This always happens no matter how infamous or famous he is at the time; but this year was probably going to get far worse.

"But Harry," Hermione said, scooting closer along the bench to him, wrapping an arm over his shoulder. "I can understand if you have fallen madly in love with me." As she said this, her voice got louder, not to shouting level per se, but loud enough that all surrounding them could hear.

Harry was confused on where this was going.

"The problem with that is though..." she bit her lip, as if she was afraid to say what came next.

It was bad acting on her part.

"I have and can only see you as a brother."

Harry was finally able to see what she was doing and sent her a silent glance of appreciation. It was true, he knew this would help her, every bit as much as it would help him; but he knew she hadn't thought of it that way. Hermione could be quite selfish at times, but not when it came to this aspect of friendship.

Trying his best to make his body tremble, Harry grabbed onto her with a pleading look in his eyes. "No Hermione, you can't abandon me...I just...I just love you so much."

"Did you not see it, it was written in ink and press, we are in love with each-other. You can't do this to me, not here and now."

At this point, the two had no choice but to give up the charade, as they were laughing so hard. It was as if they were reenacting one of Aunt Petunia's horribly acted soap operas and people were beginning to look at them like they were idiot's. But Harry had to admit, that acting that retarded every once and a while felt quite refreshing.

The people surrounding them stared, trying to figure out what was going on. The ones who understood, laughed, or shook their heads at the display; while the others were nodding, some actually believing that Harry was just dumped.

But such was the way with people.

 **HPatWTS**

After finishing breakfast, Harry and Hermione separated, as he was going to the Owlery, in hopes of saving his relationship with Hedwig. She was quite a bit mad with him, since he had to use the school owls in order to contact Sirius. since Hedwig was far too beautiful and recognizable as a snowy white owl, not native to this region.

But before she left, Harry had to deal with a string of complaints about the Krum Club, following him into the library, where Hermione just wanted to study. But what made Harry laugh, was the fact that she had never noticed the overt glances that she herself was getting from Krum.

And those glances were clearly ones of appreciation. Well...this wasn't the Muggle World anymore. And age was not as vital towards the law with either drinking or love. They were somewhere similar to that of Medieval Times, though marriage was not viable until seventeen and women had far more rights.

So, que sera sera and all that, Harry thought.

In truth, Harry was quite sure he would have ever noticed, had he not spent so much time studying in the library, as of late. That and the speculative, yet curious glances that he himself was getting from Viktor Krum.

Ones that seemed to him, as if they had more to do with Hermione than the tournament.

But all of this is a tale for later.

The walk took some time. Since the Owlery was far from any other populated area in the school. Harry was sure that this was to promote exercise, since all of the houses had to walk for damn near a half hour to reach the place. Going up several flights of steps, skipping over vanishing ones. And to top it all off, that was only if they did not get caught up in the switching of staircases.

What a hell this school was...Harry loved it.

But one could never go to the Owlery until they were finished with class, without having to worry about missing it. Well...with the exception of Trelawney's class. Though Harry would prefer to miss that.

Idly, he wondered if it were too late to give up the class like Hermione did...probably.

Opening the door to the room, Harry was greeted by quite the sight.

Hedwig, who was rather fussy about who she would play with, was messing around, dive bombing and nipping at a young Asian girl, Su Li. Playing with her like she would Harry.

Unlike how she reacted with both Hermione and Ron over the years. This was quite amusing to watch. Probably how others felt while walking in on Harry and Hedwig playing themselves.

 _Did this mean she was in a better mood than the other day...?_ He wondered.

Quietly he closed the door, hid next to a beam, out of their sights and continued to watch.

It was quite amusing, Su would chase after Hedwig when she came close enough, as the bird dodged her, flew around, landed on her shoulder, nipped at her ear and took off again.

One could say, that no matter how professional Hedwig took her duties, she was definitely a playful bird. As long as she was fond of you.

Come to think of it, how come she was never this way with either Ron or Hermione?

Well, she was a smart bird, never having too much respect for Ron and probably understanding Hermione's personality well enough to know that she wasn't the playful sort. Not even as a young child, from what her parents said, one of the few times he had met them.

As he watched, the two continued and continued to play. Harry definitely had to admit, this small yet cute girl, had an abundance of energy. Were it Harry playing, he would have tired out ages ago.

But sick of waiting, Harry walked out and put up his arm. Where the reluctant bird landed, turning her tail feathers towards him. She definitely knew he was there.

"Still mad, huh?" he asked.

She answered with a derogatory hoot. He didn't understand how he knew it was derogatory, but there was just something in the way she did it.

Harry laughed.

"Yeah, I can't blame you for being mad. I was a bit snippy the other day; but things have been going rather badly for me. I'm sorry Hedwig," there was still a bite to her hoot; but somehow it felt more sympathetic.

He did not understand her in a way, such as people communicate; but she was his only companion during summers and they had spent so much time cooped up together, at the Dursley's, that he was somehow able to understand the emotion of her tones.

 **POV: Su Li**

 _Oh god_ , she wondered. _Just how long has he been there?_

Su was not the type to get embarrassed easily, but she was certainly feeling it right now. She had not noticed him enter... _or was he there from before? And I just didn't notice?_

The shame slowly crept up to her ears, flushing them and her cheeks a deep crimson.

But then she noticed it. Was he actually communicating with the bird? And she truly seemed to understand him, as he did her.

Now this was getting weird. It was not that people did not have the affinity to understand a bird, but in one of the books she had read, written by somebody who claimed to be able to do such a thing. It said that rather than taking time, the animal had to be exceptionally smart, normally magical, and the bond between the pair had to be great.

From what she was seeing right now, Su could understand what he had meant.

It seemed that the snowy white owl she always played with, was mad at Potter; but at the same time, she could see how well the two got along.

And she couldn't help but chuckle at the way this bird turned her tail feathers at him. Her emotions seemed almost human?

 _Hedwig was it?_ Odd name, she seemed to have heard it somewhere before, but can't remember where? Not the birds name, but the name itself. But she gave up rather quickly on trying to figure out where she it from. It didn't seem that important.

"Su Li, am I correct?" he asked.

From the way he asked, she knew that he already knew it. So she found it a pointless question.

 _Oh, an icebreaker,_ she laughed to herself.

"And you are Harry Potter," she said, putting out a hand.

His cheeks became flush with embarrassment, as he returned the shake, seeming to realize how pointless the question was. Everybody in each year knew all of their classmates. Friends or not.

 _He really can be cute at times,_ she thought. Not that she had a thing for him or anything. She already had someone she liked and she was not one of those people who fawned over him for being famous.

Not that she thought him as conceited as others said. She used her own judgment ages ago, and realized that he seemed awkward in his fame. Seeming to try and shun it when he can.

She may not have been one of his fangirls, but that did not mean she did not pay him any attention though. How could she not? He was famous, her age, in a quarter of her classes and the topic of many.

That and he was Harry Potter for Merlin's sake. Of course she would notice him.

"So, this is quite the obvious answer, but I am guessing she is yours?"

An indignant hoot came from the owl. _Oh Morgana, am I being afflicted with understanding too?_ She thought, before realizing that her first assumption was correct, the bird was rather human in her emotion. And so were her answering hoots.

"No. She seems to think you are wrong about that. She belongs with me; but not to me." he replied, stroking her feathers, as she gave a delighted hoot to his answer.

"Okay...that was a strange answer."

"And you think a bird this prideful would except any other answer? Besides, saying that I own her, would seem harsh. She delivers for me, as I feed and love her." as he said this, Hedwig let out a prideful preen, as she strutted down his arm, making them both laugh.

"For Merlin's sake, that bird always knows how to get a good laugh out of me. It is so damned stuffy in this place sometimes," Su complained, voicing her frustrations. "I always heard that there were great secrets hidden in this place; yet no one tells me where I can find them. It's so damned frustrating."

She had no idea why she was complaining to him. She barely knew Harry Potter and had only spoken to him once, maybe twice in the past. But then, maybe that was why she began voicing her frustrations. You normally get less judgment from people you do not know.

But it was so damned frustrating, the way he cocked his eyebrow as she said this. In an almost pitying way. But then...she had heard some strange tales. And if even one of them were true, he may actually know quite a bit of this schools secrets.

"What...?" she asked, feeling exasperated. It seemed like he had something to say; but stopped himself.

 **POV: Harry Potter**

A twitch strained the expression of his mouth. He was tying to keep a straight face. What did she know? Nothing probably. She seemed to be genuinely voicing her frustration.

But he could give it to her, that adventure she seemed to want. But then hey! He was just complaining about not having a companion to go down there with the other day. So if she agreed?

"So..." Harry said, a grin spreading across his face. "You are looking to explore. I have the perfect place, if you want. I just didn't want to go down there alone, but if your offering."

There was a shine there, he could see it. She was like him, curious about what they did not know. Harry's biggest reason for his year to year crisis's.


	3. Chapter 3

**I think this chapter turned out really well, please let me know what you think. As I am trying to better get their feelings, thoughts, and emotions across.**

 **So, as always, read, review, fav, and follow, if you like it.**

 **Chapter 2**

It was weird. Strange. There were no words she could truly think to describe exactly what this boy was saying. He wanted to enter the women's bathroom, in order to enter a secret passage to...where exactly? She had no idea.

"Um...I found out about the passage back in our second year," he stammered out, to her look of disgust and horror.

"It was where me, Hermione and Ron went, in order to create a polyjuice potion, in order to find out if it was Malfoy, who was the Heir of Slytherin," he admitted.

 _Believable,_ she thought, as she eyed him speculatively. _Who in their right minds, that did not think this boy an up and coming Dark Lord, had not come to the conclusion that the heir was Malfoy. Especially after the way he yelled out to the Muggle-Borns, after that first attack._ Which was true, Malfoy didn't exactly create the brightest lumos, with that noggin of his. So it was likely for him to blow his own cover.

"But I had heard that you were a rather poor student in Potions Class?" Su inquired.

"Poor?" he repeated, cocking his eyebrow. "Well, yes, if you ask Snape, I am a poor student. But if you ask me, he is a rather poor teacher. I have heard of the statistics of the average drop in productivity of potions students, since he became teacher."

"On average, there is only a statistic percentage of 42% of students passing their OWL's with even an Above Average grade. And Exceeds Expectation's isn't even enough to get you into Advanced Potions Class. While before he had begun teaching, there was a percentage of 68% of all students, actually wanting to move on to Advanced Potions."

"And by the way, Hermione was the one who made the potion, while I had readied the supplies and ingredients and Ron watched out for people making their way down here—which never really happened due to people not wanting to interrupt Myrtles moaning," he said in a way that almost had her convinced.

"So you were able to get the precise measurement of all the ingredients cut up? That takes a lot of patience. And that patience is something I was told you have never shown in Potions Class, by someone who would not lie to me and takes class with you."

"Yes, you are correct in assuming I do not have that patience, in _Potions Class,_ where I have Crabbe, Goyle, and whoever else Malfoy can pay off, to ruin my potion."

"Other than that, one of my few joys outside of magic is cooking, because I am good at it. And my Aunt Petunia was not the kindest person if I did not get the ingredients proportional, to the slightest degree, shape and size. She was a stickler for perfection."

She could understand that, her parents were the same way when she was taught to make potions growing up. In truth, many of the potions they are creating in class, are nothing more than review for her, since she grew up, with her parents owning a decent number of apothecary's, across the nation.

This may sound like she was from a well off family, at the level of the Malfoy's; but that couldn't be any further removed from the truth.

She came from a Pure-Blood family that originated from China. Though her mother was born and raised here in Britain. Her grandparents hadn't been, they moved here just before her mother was born, as did her father, just before she was.

Him and her mother were close friends when younger, then later became lovers. They married only a few weeks before her birth.

They loved each-other at the time; but their reason for marrying was to avoid having her considered a bastard. That could be problematic among the Pure-Blood society. And while they did not believe in that Pure-Blood movement, as they call it. But that did not mean they would not want to avoid the trouble these people could cause, for a bastardized child.

But anyway, most of the money that they earned from the apothecary's, often went back into them. And they put the rest of it into the bank, taking only what was needed. And true, often for spoiling their favorite and only daughter.

But putting it that way, makes it sound like they didn't make much either; but they did. They were well off, you could even say they were wealthy. It was just that they came nowhere near the wealth of the Malfoy's, who had not seemed to have worked a day in their life, living off the inheritance of their ancestors.

"But I do have to say, your friend Granger is quite gifted with potions, if she was able to brew a polyjuice in only her second year."

"Gifted?" he asked, curiously.

"Well, if you want me to say genius, I was brewing a polyjuice by the time I was ten and do not consider myself a genius. Though, if I put it that way, it was more because my family wants me to know the ins and outs of the family business. Creating potions for vaccination, cures...poisons," she coughed out, "and other such stuff."

Potter gave her a look of shock.

"Well, at an apothecary you have to know poisons every bit as well as the cure, or how would you diagnose those people who show up in need of a cure. An apothecary owner has to not only be proficient in brewing; but they have to be a certified Healer. Next year I start my own apprenticeship under Madame Pomphrey."

Potter put a comforting hand onto her shoulder. "I feel your pain."

She stared at him blankly.

"You will understand next year...as will I. But Poppy is a bit of a slave driver. I have spent more than enough time up in the Infirmary, so I should know. The people she takes under her wing, are treated with much a gusto, you don't want to dally even for a fraction of a second. You get it to her when she asks for it, and you best be able to diagnose the simple stuff after only a few short weeks, accurately."

"She does not play around, and while you can do your work while you're there. When a patient comes in, you best not let her get to them first. You had best be at the door, guiding them to a bed, asking questions on how they are feeling, what their symptoms are, and checking to find out if they are just trying to skip class. And be prepared to learn simple diagnostic spells, before she begins your apprenticeship," Harry informed her.

"...And I thought Granger was supposed to be the informed one," the blank stare never leaving her face. "First you are spouting percentages, now you are informing me of what to expect from my apprenticeship."

"The percentages were of Hermione's own devising. She checked through the old OWL logs, categorized them, and wanted to know how many could possibly not fail under such a teacher."

"I was just the person she chose to lecture that to. And only remember it, because I was infinitely curious as to how bad a teacher Snape was and it exceeded my expectations."

"Now, as for the apprenticeship. Like I said, I feel your pain. She signed me up, to start her training next year, waiving all fees, because she said I am a nuisance to my own self...I blame bad luck."

"But also, I fear the worst, after my name came out of that damned _goblet_ , I fear she may decide to start it sooner. She even promised me, that if I end up in that bed for more than an illness this year, she is reserving me a bed and had said she already made a plaque for it...I believe her."

It was the way he had said it. The venom in his voice, as he mentioned the Goblet of Fire and the look in his eyes, as it was said. He truly did not want this.

Before today, she was undecided. Not that she even cared about whether he did it or not. If he did, he deserved the honor, for being able to outwit the Headmaster alone. And if he didn't...well, she was glad it wasn't her.

When she had admitted this to him, he just laughed and laughed. She could see as the affection in his eyes for her grew, she seemed to have earned his...trust...or was it respect, from telling him the truth of her thoughts.

She did not know which it was, but decided that she would give him this one chance to earn her approval. She would go into this bathroom with him. And if he tried anything funny...Well, she could hold her own. She had a few tricks to defend herself and most Witches or Wizards would never expect her style of defense. She was good with a wand; but not only that.

 **POV: Harry Potter**

He was not sure, but it felt like something shifted in this conversation. Maybe not what you call friendship began, but it seemed to have slowly started.

Harry could care less, about the fact that she had been undecided about his guilt or innocence. It was the fact that she had no opinion whatsoever, other than the fact that somebody outsmarting Dumbledore should be good grounds to admit them.

Which Harry could agrree, without worrying over the fact that it was conceited. Because in fact, he never did outsmart the man.

It was after that, that she, Su, decided follow him into the bathroom. He could tell that she still was hesitant to trust him. And though he did seem to have an attraction towards Asian women. He was no rapist. Such thoughts never crossed his mind.

Though, he could hardly blame her for being weary of a boy, taking her into the girl's bathroom. Especially an abandoned one. But this bathroom was abandoned for a reason.

Making his way in, he got down on one knee, put his face near the knob underneath one of the sinks. Keeping his back to her, making no sudden movements to scare her, whispering, "O _ **pen."**_ in parseltongue. The language of the snakes.

Silently after that, as she stared at him in awe and wonder, the wall began to retract, slowly opening.

The most shocking thing for her, he thought, was the fact that even while watching the wall behind the sink, open up, it had only made the barest of sounds. As if somebody silencio'd it.

Which they probably had.

Beyond the door, was a large cavernous opening, that ended in a slide down. Into the deepest depths of the school.

The problem here, was that this long tunnel they needed to slide down, was caked in grime beyond comprehension. One thousand years of no cleaning. But that was why he had told her to get a change of clothes, for when they came back up, before bringing her down here.

Surprisingly, she did not protest, like most girls would. Having to slide down something so horrific.

The trip down was every bit as crazy as he had remembered. Like one of those amusement park rides he got to watch Dudley puke from. Never getting a chance to ride them himself.

On the way down, it was dark, far darker than one could believe possible. Causing fear and excitement to cause some really strange, adverse effects. Thank Merlin for the fact that they were in the dark. He did not know how he would be able to look Su in the face, if she saw how his body reacted.

He hated the way his body had been reacting this past year. Waking up, and at other random times, his body functioned in some weird and embarrassing ways. And to think at first, he was bothered by the scratchy sounds his voice began making while he talked...this was far worse.

As he made it to the bottom, Harry stood up and adjusted himself. No need to make things weird, after he got them out from the dark.

After waving a simple _lumos,_ Harry was glad to know that he had fixed the problem from view, as it seemed to be getting worse.

This girl, it was hard to tell with her school robes on. But she had a great body. No, she wasn't so busty, that her bra was going to explode, nor was her butt so big, that he wanted to ask her if she wanted fries with that shake. But she had great proportions, neither too big, nor too small. And they just seemed to fit to each-other, like a well made puzzle.

Though, that would be one thing, but the real problem came from how her clothes clung to her. Accentuating every round curve. He may barely know this girl, but it was hard to keep his eyes from noticing such things.

 _Oh shit,_ he thought, as she looked his way. She seemed to have noticed his lingering eyes, as she smiled at him knowingly. Giving him a saucy wink, as she walked passed. Thankfully her eyes were only on his face as she passed, and he was wearing a robe.

Quietly, he tried counting prime numbers. He had once heard that that would help him in a tight spot.

But...unfortunately, he did not have the presence of mind at the moment. So then, he recited one of Hermione's lectures. That seemed to have worked well.

Reaching his wand out farther, Harry lit the surrounding area. Which was not hard, since it was so dark that a simple lumos spell could brighten the way, from at least two miles back. With a glance, he began to walk forward.

But before he could even make two steps, Su stopped him and asked, "I can probably guess as to where we are. I mean, thinking about it logically, there is probably only one place in the school, that could be here; but I was curious if you would tell me?"

"Well, there is a reason that I did not tell you, where it was we were going."

The only response he got, was that Su blinked.

"Because it was a secret."

Again, she blinked.

"The Chamber of Secrets," he answered, looking put out. Harry was never the best at telling jokes, this he had always left to Ron, as his personality was too serious for it.

"Please," Su replied, giving him an earnest expression. "For your sake as well as mine, please do not try telling such jokes again...it's just too painful to hear."

"I'll try," he responded, a chagrined smile enveloping his face. "But I promise nothing, I can have one hell of a bad sense of humor at times."

"I noticed," she responded dryly, before she began to laugh at the absurdity of the statement.

As they chatted, the two made it to the area where it caved-in, last time he was down here. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at how foolish he was that day.

"What is it?" Su asked.

"Well, you remember when Ginny Weasley got kidnapped, back in our second year?"

"Yeah, that is kind of hard to forget, your schoolmate getting kidnapped, while others got petrified." she answered.

"This was where she was brought to. That day. As he tried to suck the magic right out of her," Harry gripped hard at his wand, as he reminisced of that day. Not particularly wanting to reveal what had happened; but at the same time, he had not even noticed that he was speaking.

"Who did it?"

"Tom." he answered.

"And just who is this Tom?"

"V-" he began to answer, before he stopped himself. She said she believed him, that his name was not put in the cup by him now. He didn't want t ruin that by making her believe him crazy.

"It's nobody you would know," he responded. "But at the same time, somebody you would never want to come across."

"But enough of that," he said, thinking of a way to distract her from asking more. "The reason I find this so hilarious," he said, pointing at the cave-in. "Is because I could have avoided this, if I was not too stupid and tried to force Lockhart's help, into rescuing Ginny."

Su cocked an eyebrow at the statement.

"Do you realize how fake that mother fucker was?" Harry asked. It was a bit off for him to get this vulgar; but every time he thought of that son of a bitch Lockhart, the hatred just welled up inside of him.

"What, you think that I was a fan girl of his?" she asked, by the looks of it, she was half amused, half perturbed. "That guy was faker than Christmas in July."

Harry was rather amused by the statement. It was a little weird to hear such a thing in the Wizarding World; but it wasn't like everybody was ignorant of the Muggle World.

"Okay," she replied, "I have no idea what Christmas in July signifies; but I always wanted to say it, after hearing it once."

"Muggle propaganda," Harry laughed. "It is just a way for them to make more sales in July and nobody actually celebrates anything."

"Oh..." she replied curiously. As she said it, it was not in a manner like Arthur Weasley, who wants to understand everything Muggle; but understand none of it. It was more in a way that implied she had enough curiosity to want to sate her ignorance and was glad for the help.

"Anyway, it was the day that we found the entrance to this place—after I asked Myrtle of the way she died, she was killed by Salazaar's pet—that was when I knew where to find the entrance to The Chamber of Secrets."

"After that we went into the Teacher's Lounge, where we had overheard them talking of Ginny being captured and all of the Professor's nominate Lockhart, in order to rescue her."

Su gave him an incredulous look and before she could begin to speak, he interrupted her. "No, they did not believe he was capable, they were just using the chance to chase him out...and it worked."

"You see, after he had gone back to his office, we had followed him. We wanted to let him know that we knew where the entrance was, so he would be able to get Ginny."

"But what did we find when we got there...? He was packing, making his escape. Leaving her to die down here." Harry raved.

"Now," he said, a smile forming on his face, as he took off his shirt and began to move rocks. "I may have lost my temper."

"Now don't get me wrong, I am not bragging or anything. Actually, it is more of a testament to his lack of skills, more than anything. But he flat out told us, that he was never gifted with the finer points of fighting. So what he did was, go from place to place, getting the story from people on how they defeated what. And then erased their memories of it."

"You see," Harry sighed, with a look of contempt and disgust, "what he told us he was gifted with was memory charms. He felt that these mundane looking people had no rights to their stories and erased their accomplishments clean from their minds."

"He then told us that we were going to have our minds wiped and basically let everybody think we had lost our minds when Ginny turned up dead...I don't see how that would work for me though, I had barely even talked to the girl back then...heck, I've barely talked to her even now. She still runs away from me."

Shaking his head, Harry then said, "Anyways, I was able to disarm him when he wasn't expecting it and took his wand. Guiding him down here. Idiotic really, I could have have just used a spell to temporarily incarcerate him, or bind his body. But when we got down here, he grabbed Ron's wand and used a memory charm on him."

The shock and horror grew in her eyes, as she realized what he had just said.

"That was so stupid of him," Harry laughed, tossing one of larger rocks back to the floor, before he realized that he was a Wizard and could just do this all with spell. Making it much safer. So as he began levitating rocks and used a few spells to keep the rubble safe to move, he then continued. "You see, Ron's wand was broken. Snapped right in half, with only spell-o tape to keep it...working."

"And work it did," he laughed. "You see, when he used the spell on Ron, it rebounded back on himself, causing him to forget who he was and created this cave-in."

Su shook her head.

"But there are a few things I am curious about," she said, as she thought back on what he didn't say.

"I can't promise I will tell you everything. There are pieces that you don't want to know."

"And yes," he interrupted, before she could say anything. "I can say that with confidence, because I still have nightmares about that night. But it is best if I continue after we get to the chamber proper," he said, as he began to crawl through a whole big enough for either to fit through.

"Besides, sometimes seeing is easier than believing," he shuddered, as he gave an unnoticed glance to his feet, where a very large reptilian skin, lay flat on the ground, barely noticeable; and collecting dust.

Thinking about it, he wondered how much he could get, if he were to find some place to sell that skin. He saw the price of basilisk hide boots once—and they weren't even quality ones—and the price was ridiculous.

Two hundred Galleons!? A new quality broom only cost seventy-five—though not a Firebolt, that was like the Ferrari of all brooms and even a Nimbus runs one forty-five.

Quietly the two crept along. Not because they were afraid to speak; but because this place demanded silence as you entered. Walking towards that large bronze gate. The one that sealed the true entrance, which stood three meters high, with snakes encrusted on the door. As if proclaiming, I am Slytherin and you are now entering the sanctity of my serpent.

Enter at your own peril.

And that was just what they did, as Harry went up to the door, again whispering in snake for it to open. And thankfully it did. This left Harry wondering if somebody came down here every few months, because the silence of the door as it opened, made you think somebody must have been oiling it. Though he knew it had to be some sort of preservation spell.

 **HPatWTS**

It was a world of wonder, beyond that gate. Stalactite and stalagmite formed around the sides of the diamond-like shape of a snake-head, as if they were teeth. Which meant that this area had to have been formed through some sort of magic. Harry idly speculated on how it could have been done.

From his guess, Dwarves maybe. From what he knew of the creatures, they were similar in nature to that of Tolkien's book: The Lord of the Rings. Though they did not look like them. From what Harry had seen in pictures, they looked somewhat more like a larger Garden Gnome.

They could have done this, that and they value secrecy once they were paid. Kind of like the Goblins.

In the antechamber, there was a dank coolness, thankfully that did not smell of mold or decay. Not like the tunnel they just left. As it was littered with bones and carcasses of what must have been a millennia of hunting and defecation.

The atmosphere of the room was dank, dark, and dismal, as the room had a dusty hue to the limestone cave. It was well lit though, unlike the cavern leading up to this point, as they entered many of the torches upon the wall, responded to the pull of life, and lit up, illuminating the place with a flickering glow.

At the other end of the room, stood the large statue of Salazaar, standing in the immortality of his glory—he must truly have been vain, to have them carve out his own likeness, in a place that he kept to himself.

But what was lying t the foot of it, was what caught their attention. Harry could not believe that the corpse still did not decay, after what should have been one and a half years. Well, even he knew that their were some creatures that were in essence, so filled with magic, that they only decayed after the magic left the corpse.

"A-Amazing," Su stuttered in awe and fear. Harry was not sure, but he thought it may have been close to ten minutes of her body trembling, before she spoke "I have seen them often enough. At my parents central shop, they often have the adventuring type, as well as curse-breakers bring these in. but never have I seen one so large. It is what, sixty feet in length, and six and a half feet in diameter?" she hypothesized.

"This," he said, as he watched her face, for any indication of her emotions. "is what had caused the petrification of the students in our second year."

Her face was a flicker of emotion, first doubt, as anybody would feel. This type of beast, with its size, could just eat you. Why go through all the trouble. Besides its eyes kill with just a single glance.

Then, she must have thought about something, because her eyes became thoughtful. True, they were confused; but there was a hidden concern their. Then he saw it, comprehension.

"...I see..."

"What?" Harry asked.

"When a person goes hunting a basilisk, they often come back with one of two problems."

"Either they are dead, which is more common than not. I don't know if you can understand the sheer stupidity of some of these people. Refusing to buy the correct gear, because either it is too expensive, or they want the full thrill of the hunt."

"Or they come back filled with poison. Basilisk venom is very potent, so if they can survive the apparition to an apothecary or St. Mungos, they do end up with quite the immunity to other venom's. Because you can never get that stuff full out of your veins."

Harry shivered, he knew full well what it was like to be bitten by such a beast...and the pain was unbearable. Thinking about it, he probably got more of a dose than any person in living history, since that beast was so large and full of venom.

"But...every so often—and this is rare, mind you—we get a Witch or Wizard, using the stores apparition zone, bringing in a statue of a man or woman. They would get petrified during the basilisk hunt."

"Yeah, and those are the lucky ones..." Harry said, as he shivered uncontrollably. Thinking about all of that pain the poison caused.

Su eyed him speculatively.

"Well, since we are here, I might as well tell you..." he sighed. This was the part he was most regretting, about bringing her down here. After this, she was truly going to look at him like a madman.

 **POV: Su Li**

"Okay, so it started back in second year, after the Halloween feast, that Ron, Hermione, and I did not attend, in favor of Nearly-Headless Nick's deathday party," Su couldn't help but look at him inquisitively after that. Not many of the living have ever been invited to attend one of those.

"Yeah," he replied at seeing her glance. "He wanted to show me off, in hopes of using me as a connection to join The Headless Hunt. It didn't turn out too well for him."

Su nodded her head in comprehension. The Headless Hunt was obviously a rather apt name for them, if her guess was right, and Nick was obviously only nearly there...hence the name.

"Anyway, if you are ever invited, you should remember something urgent for that day, it is not quite fun...for the living. And my ears are still ringing," as he said this, Harry mimed at cleaning the wax out of them.

"But yeah, back to the story. So, as we were walking back, I began hearing this chanting through the walls. Something nobody else could hear. Rip, tear, kill, and other things that began to make me shiver."

Su stared at him. At any other time, she may have thought that he was going as mad as they say. But staring over at the foot of the statue, she could probably begin to understand what he may have been thinking, at a time where he could not see the thing; but hear it, yet nobody else could.

"You see, that day back at the Dueling Club they started, back in second year. I had no clue that speaking to snakes was out of the ordinary. I had done it a few times before and some of them...maybe the weak-willed ones, they seemed compelled to obey. That was how I stopped it from attacking Justin—not that anybody believed that at the time."

Su kept quiet and listened. It was not that she did not believe him, back then. She did. It wasn't that hard to figure out. The cadence of his tone, at the time, it was commanding; but when he spoke, the snake stopped, mid-strike.

The true problem was something her parents had warned her of, before she ever came to Hogwarts. Witches and Wizards, by nature, seem to love idle gossip, and rumors have destroyed far too many lives. Especially if they were trying to associate among the aristocracy. That lot seemed to be run by Lucius Malfoy, for the darker factions, Augusta Longbottom, the light factions, and the neutral just ignored them all. Unless they needed to associate.

These factions were started during the last wizarding war, that ended thirteen years ago, by the boy in front of her, who was an infant at the time. She was curious how that came about.

"But after hearing that voice, I followed where it was coming from, not to find the creature; but Mrs. Norris." (AN: Who knew that good old Chuck married a cat?)

Yeah, she remembered that, Mrs. Norris, hung upside down by the tail, completely turned to stone. She had heard about it after; but had not actually seen it herself. She even once fancied that it may be a basilisk that did it; but turned down the idea quick, because how would one get around the school.

Well, she knew now.

"After that, there was the whole scenario with the snake at that... _Dueling Club..._ " he stressed the words as if they had left a bitter taste in his mouth. And after that fiasco, she couldn't blame him. "Well, as I said earlier, we wanted to verify if he was the heir or not."

She remained quiet; even though she had a lot to say on that whole matter. But, that would waste time, and she wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Anyways after whole fiasco...and yes, it was a fiasco. We got the information alright...but—and don't tell her I told you this—Hermione, when she grabbed a hair from Bulstrode...she grabbed a cat fur instead..." as he said this, he began to laugh.

Su then thought about polyjuice potions and the effects she was taught... and then "Oh Merlin no!" she shouted, half in horror, half in glee. "But the effects, they would last an indeterminate amount of time..."

"The effects would try and turn her into a cat; but it was made for human transformation...so...until it wore off, she was a hybrid of Millicent Bulstrode's cat?!" she excitedly inquired.

She couldn't take it anymore and burst out into laughter at Harry's grin and nod.

Harry then began to stroll around the chamber, taking it all in. before he even told her where they were going, he had told her that he only came to this place once, and wanted to have company when exploring.

Looking around, she couldn't blame him. The place was so old and dank, that it gave off a creepy vibe. And something just did not sit well with her about that creepy statue. The Founder seemed so... _arrogant_.

"So after that, Hagrid got arrested, right?" he asked, making sure she remembered. Su nodded.

She liked Hagrid, ever since first year, she never actually spent time with him; like when she saw Potter leaving his hut. But he was good-natured—a bit of a monster freak; but it was not like they were monstrous to him.

He was what? Eleven and a half feet tall. Her mother once speculated that he was Half-Giant; but urged her to keep her trap shut. She wouldn't have said anything anyway...people are what they are; and it was not what they are that mattered...it is what they do.

Moving towards the snake, staring at the beasts fangs, he sighed.

Was one missing? She wondered as she too looked. And inside, was that...a puncture whole?

Trying to keep her mouth shut, she waited.

"Honestly, this next part I want to forget. It makes me remember just how blind Hagrid is to some of the creatures he raises..." Harry sighed, a pained look on his face, as he walked, brushing his hand against the magnificent specimen.

"Ron and myself," he said in an exasperated tone. "We were there in his hut when he got arrested, hiding."

"After he was taken into custody...he told us to follow the spiders," he shuddered, looking back on some unseen horror.

"We could not understand what he meant; but one day, after Hermione was found petrified," she was glad he glossed over that. No disrespect was meant to Granger; but she already knew of that. She was just excited to hear the story. Everything up til now seemed plausible.

"Well, this is where the story takes a turn for the worse," she looked at him confused.

"While I was distracted, one day, I noticed a trail of spiders. Getting Ron's attention, we followed it, wondering just what Hagrid wanted us to find."

"Oh yeah, we found something alright," as he said this, he began to shiver uncontrollably.

"Did you know that there was a colony of acromantula in the Forbidden Forest?"

Su blanched. Stopped. Did a double take, taking in Potter's expression.

"Potter..."

"It's Harry," he said, looking taken aback.

Right, she was raised with a societal difference from his. She heard he was raised by Muggles that he hated. And that was why the rumor of him being the heir spread so quickly, she had to remember that.

"Right, Harry? She said inquiringly. "Did you just tell me that there was a colony of acromantula, out, what...a few miles from here?"

"Indeed I did," he said in faux bravado.

"The damn thing said that the monster at school was not it; but its enemy. Kind of like a spiders version of Voldemort." she shivered as he said this.

"Seriously, you people need to learn not to fear a name so much."

"And maybe you should learn to fear it. Do you know—"

"I know better than anybody!" he shouted, green eyes angered, fire dancing in them. She shivered; not from fear of him, but from the emotion that he emitted "I fear not a damned name, I fear that person...No! Not a person! That damned creature!"

Su stared at him for a moment, confused; but noticing the horror at the words he had just said.

"What are you saying?" she asked. "You mean this?" she pointed to the creature they stood beside.

"Fear it?" he asked, almost laughing. "Oh, I have had many a nightmares about the thing; but I don't fear it...not anymore."

"Then what are—"

"Don't ask, you are better off not knowing. Lets just say that there is something that may...happen...and it may happen sooner than later, I fear. And judging by the way events are unfolding...I hope I can survive," the way he said this, it unnerved her...no, it horrified her. It reminded her of the look he had, after his name was called forth from the goblet. And the problem was...she didn't think he was faking it.

"I have to prepare," he mumbled to himself. And then the mumbling stopped, as if he just remembered he was not alone.

"Sorry, where was I?" he asked, face still haunted. "Right, acromantula!"

"Yeah, so we had followed the trail and it led us right into the midst of a colony of full grown acromantula." as he said this, his confidence seemed to ebb away the fear.

"And at the head, was one who spoke," it probably should have surprised her; but she knew well that some could speak. Which was why she had not batted a lash at what he said earlier, before his outburst.

All it truly took was some nurturing and a person to talk to, and as he said, Hagrid led him to it, she could picture him cuddling a baby spider, cooing at it.

And as for why she knew they spoke, it was because they did make for great potions ingredients and were worth...well, not as much as that snake over here, in front of them. But as she looked at it, she was mired in its beauty it was a green snake, silver seeming to glide down it as the lights flickered, illuminating it, and the tip of its tail was black.. _So, that was where the Slytherin colors came from?_

As she looked to the side, she found that Harry had found the majesty of the being to be resplendent also. He almost looked sad that it was dead.

"But, like I said, it told us of a creature that lived under the castle. One that it would not speak its name. After that, was where it got a bit dicey...He then proceeded to tell us of how Hagrid was under his protection. _Hagrid_ and not us."

"He then gave his kin permission to feast upon us..." he shivered.

"And then you fought your way _free_?" Su asked, not even trying to hide the note of sarcasm. There was just no way that a student could fight there way free of a colony of acromantula. Heck, even a fully trained Wizard couldn't do that...only people like Dumbledore could.

"Oh hell no, what type of fool do you take me for!?" he actually laughed at her when he said this. It did not seem that he took offense to her sarcasm; but found the idea hilarious instead.

"No, we ran like a bat out of hell. And if we had not ran across Ron's fathers car out there...we would most certainly have died."

Su looked at him, unable to comprehend his answer.

"Do you remember back in second year, Ron and I showed up at school having crashed a car into the Whomping Willow?"

Now that she remembered, it was the talk of the school for weeks. And Snape could be heard by all, complaining about the pretentious Potter and his ability to show off. So she nodded her understanding.

"Well, the thing was living out in the wilds, like some neanderthal, and it happened across us...almost as if it had been watching, opened the door, let us in, and drove off," this part he seemed almost baffled about; but she could understand what he meant.

Over that year, a shabby looking car had been seen close to the edge of the forest at times...normally when getting dark and you could see the lights from it. She herself seen it a good few times, when getting ready to enter the castle. And had also seen it out of her windows one night, lights flashing in and out of the trees, horn beeping. It was rather hard to miss.

"It wasn't till much later that we finally figured out what it was down here...actually, Hermione did."

Now it was Su's turn to be baffled.

"But...wasn't—"

"Hermione petrified?" Harry finished the thought for her.

"Well yeah, sure she was. Makes things a bit more complicated right?"

She nodded her head.

"Well, you see, when they found Hermione and what's her name? Ah right, Penelope Clearwater, I think. Bit of an odd girl to be so cute and go out with Percy though..." he mumbled under her breath.

She shook her head at the thought. She remembered both Penelope and Percy Weasley and thought it not so weird. Penelope was cute; but a bit of an isolationist. Barely any friends and loved her books, along with the rules, her and Percy Weasley fit like a snug glove.

"Anyway, when they found them, she and Hermione were huddled up, going around a corner; while they seemed to be looking through a mirror," and it clicked.

"Wait. You figured out the creature just from that?" Harry looked at her and laughed.

Judging from the weary looks he's had over the past couple of weeks, she would have to say it was good for him. He actually seemed to be lively today. Not that she had been paying much attention to him; but she had noticed, the rings under his eyes, the flashes of irritation. But only because he had been in the spotlight so much recently.

"No. Actually, it was the article clutched in her hand, that I found the day Ginny was brought down here. One about basilisks. Things started to click into place after that."

"You see, the last time the chamber was open, there was a death in the girl's bathroom, I then put two and two together, and four equaled...maybe that girl never left that bathroom..." he trailed off, letting that hang. Then it clicked into place for her too.

Honestly, had they not used Myrtles bathroom to get down here, she may never have figured out what he was getting at; but the fact that he had the presence of mind to figure out that fact, under such dire pressure back then...wait, did this mean she believed this story. Truthfully, she did not know; but it wasn't like the tale had been fully spun yet.

"I then used Myrtles tale to figure out who and how they opened the chamber...

"Wait...how did you figure that out, and just who was it?"

Harry shook his head. "That is dangerous knowledge Miss Li..."

"Hold up...what is up with the Miss Li, when just a few minute ago, you were telling me to use your first name and why is it dangerous for me; but not you?"

Harry smiled a self-deprecating smile before answering. "Who said it wasn't dangerous for me? The difference is the fact that regardless of whether I knew who he was or not, he has made it his life's goal to make my life hell. He won't stop until I am dead...or, if I am lucky enough, he is..." there it was again, that look. Just what types of horror could make somebody seem so...haunted by something?

"And as for the Miss Li thing...it just felt right at the time."

This boy...could he just figure out one emotion to use at a time, she was starting to get dizzy from his torrent of emotions. Happy, lethargic, self-deprecation, laughter...depression...this was just all too much!

"Okay fine...for now I will leave this alone..." she said in a manner that spoke volumes to anybody with a shred of common sense, that she would bring it up again.

Harry groaned, putting his hand to his head, then sighed. Looking up, as if he were praying to the heavens for help.

She smiled. In truth, she couldn't help it, curiosity was in her nature,she was a Ravenclaw after all. And curiosity is a trait that is deemed most admirable to them. Actually, Professor Flitwick encouraged it.

Turning around, he then began strolling the room, moving slowly at first, waiting for her to catch up.

"Well, after that...we can skip that, I already told you earlier," she nodded her agreement, feeling glad that he wasn't going to recant the Lockhart incident.

"Well, after the cave-in, Ron was stuck on one side, with a Lockhart who had lost his wits, his own confundus charm backfiring upon him."

"So, I moved ahead, afraid of what I might find. But what I found was beyond my comprehension...I found _him_...he was supposed to have graduated more than fifty years ago..."

"And at that...he looked not a day older," now she was starting to get confused; but she promised not to bring it up... _for now._

"It was strange, _he_ was also a parselmouth; but unlike me, he could control the snake," Harry said, gesturing towards the basilisk.

"We talked for a bit...honestly, I was confused, and was trying to get _him_ to bring help. Ginny was hurt, collapsed on the floor."

"He then started laughing, telling me about how _he_ did this, in order to bring me down here. He wanted to meet the person who defeated Lord Voldemort. Then proceeded to try and convince me that I was like him... as if!" Harry spat on the floor.

"We argued a bit, then he called for it, and the snake came out ot Salazaar's mouth—yes...that friggin huge thing did!"

Su stared up at that behemoth of a statue and could understand how. It went up more than half the height of the cavern. And this chamber was huge!

"It came after me; but I was lucky, at that moment Dumbledore's familiar came down to the chamber with the Sorting Hat. Which I put over my head, since it was plenty big enough to blind me."

"Fawkes?!" she yelled out, surprised.

"You know of him?"

"Yes, the Headmaster comes with vials of phoenix tears, every once and a while. We...nobody he gives them to can sell them. We have to use them for dire emergencies, and he does come to check and make sure they weren't sold."

"Though...some idiot had done it once, they were ruined after that, being discredited by Albus Dumbledore," Su explained.

Harry nodded his understanding.

"Anyway, if not for Fawkes, I would have died quick. He swooped in with the hat, and then attacked the basilisk. Pecking its eyes out."

Su looked over and saw that it was true. It was hard to tell; but up close, one could see the peck marks, in the eyes, as well as talon marks.

"And then, in my attempts to rescue Ginny, the sword of Gryffindor hit me on the head..."

She just stared at him like some sort of exotic animal, raised in a zoo.

"You may think it is crazy; but from what Dumbledore had told me, it is acts of bravery that can summon it. And since the Sorting Hat is also an artifact of Godric Gryffindor, it was probably made possible to summon it through that."

Nodding her head, Su agreed that in theory it was possible. But it was not like she was some sort of expert though.

Continuing on, he said, "At this point, the snake was blinded. Thanks to Fawkes. But it was not out of the game, _he_ was over there and draining the life and magic from Ginny."

Su stared at him, horrified. There was a possibility to do such things; but she doubted that even the Forbidden Section of the library had such literature. This stuff is often told to children of the Magical World, in order to let them know the perils of magic.

"And then you had me, trying to stay alive," Harry sighed, it was obvious that he was thinking about something that happened. "So...I decided to make a trade...my life for Ginny's"

"I stabbed that thing right through the roof of its mouth as it struck—by the way, the Sorting Hat was guiding my actions, since I could not see—and its fang pierced me." he showed her a scar on his arm as he said this.

"This, is something that I do—"

"You do not think you could believe," he said, a smirk on his face.

"Why?"

"Because, with tat much poison coursing through you," she said, pointing at the basilisk. "You would be dead in minutes."

"But you forgot something, didn't you?" he replied with an infuriating smirk.

"Oh, and what was that?" she answered, skepticism bleeding into her every word.

"The hero of my story."

She looked at him blankly.

"What is Fawkes?"

"...oh..." she had honestly forgotten about that during the story. And true enough, he never had made himself out to be the hero. One would just think it due to him being the only _person_ there.

"Yep, Fawkes is my little hero," he stated in a way that had her believing in this story now. Not because it sounded true. Merlin knows, there was enough uncanny stuff around this school; but it was the pride in his eyes, as he spoke of Fawkes, that made her somewhat—but not fully—believe.


	4. Chapter 4

**I will check over and edit the chapter again tomorrow; but for now I will set it free. ow...my head is throbbing, and I just wrote like 4k words...ouch, and I am shocked, my hand just kept on typing. If you see any error's please let me know, that way I have less checking...though it would still end with me rereading again and again.**

 **As always, read, review, fav, and follow!**

 **Chapter 3**

There were only few true distinctions in this antechamber. The statue, the snake, and the room being shaped like the maw of a serpent. Other than that, right behind the statue, not hidden; but out of view, was a door, old, wooden; but had to be magically preserved from age.

Making their way over, Harry motioned Su to stop. He was unsure what lay behind the door; but was curious as to its contents. Quietly—not from fear; but caution—he opened the door, which made not a sound.

Oddly enough, it was more mind boggling than he expected; yet mundane as one could hope. Beyond the antechamber, lay a corridor, a dusty hall that held rooms. All visible due to the torches being set alight upon the opening of the door.

As Harry motioned her on, he took the first step into the corridor, before he began coughing in a fit. Dust billowing in his face, when Su stepped forward, shirt covering hers, tapping his head with her wand, creating a bubblehead charm.

Harry nodded his gratitude to her, as he took in a breath of fresh air, and she began to cast the spell on herself. This was a spell he knew of; but never thought to learn...which was foolish, with all of the adventures he'd had, this spell may one day come in handy, as it was able to null the affects of poison and other such airborne pollutants, as long as cast before being breathed in.

At the first part of the hall, there were four doors. Each side by side or directly across from each-other. Opening the first door had revealed a room, which they had entered.

"It is dirty, but..." Su said, as she revealed the coloring of the wall. "It has a Ravenclaw bronze trim, with a blue wall, and look over there." she said, pointing to a bed, four poster and canopied. "The bed is also trimmed bronze on the posts, with blue sheets as well as the canopy."

Harry was sure they were both thinking the same thing...could it be that the secret of the chamber was that Rowena and Salazaar were having a tryst? ...but no, that didn't seem right either, there were four doors grouped together.

Making his way back out of the room. Leaving Su behind, to examine the stuff, he opened another door.

And as he thought, this time it was Gryffindor scarlet and gold trim. Though, like the other room, it was kind of hard to tell, without scrutinizing. With so much dust caked all over the place.

At the moment, he thought it pointless to check the other rooms, he thought he knew what they were, and after checking just one of the rooms, they could just come back later and dig through the others.

Making his way back into Rowena's bedroom, he noticed Su standing there, observing a mini statue of an eagle, made of bronze. Putting it back down, she looked up with awe and amazement, and Harry couldn't help but smile.

"It is definitely antiquated," she replied, staring at it, astounded. "Did you know, that since the death of the founders, they were supposed to have taken and sold all of their possessions. It was supposed to have earned that eras ministry a great sum of money."

"Sadly, most of that has been resold, and only the richest of the noble houses can afford them."

"It is sad to say, but this thing is probably worth more than everything my family owns...put together, including their business's," as she said this, she put the eagle down, carefully, as if it were to break from the slightest of touches.

It was then that they decided to search through the room. Though nothing much was found. Drawers having been filled with moldy old clothes that seemed to have not decayed. A journal of sorts, they decided to check it out later; though from a glance, it seemed to be nothing extraordinary. Just some day to day events; but it would be neat to read of the Founder's own words. Since so much of them had been lost to time.

The desk contained parchment and quills, a few doodles; but nothing much.

It wasn't until Su opened one of the closet door's, that they discovered anything. What they had found was a large ascending set of steps, circling widdershins, lit by her wand.

 **POV: Su Li**

Slowly, Su walked through the from of the door, shocked by the sudden emergence of light, as the braziers on the stone wall lit up, emanating a flickering glow.

She probably shouldn't have been shocked; not since this wasn't the first time it happened down here; but seriously. _How...for the sake of magic, had they been able to keep this place functioning, so long after death?_

Shaking the thoughts from her head, Su began to ascend the steps, Harry just behind.

The steps were long, not too high, or far apart—like some of the steps in school—but long and winding. In truth, it took all of forty-five minutes to ascend in total.

If things kept going like this, she wondered if she would be able to make it back to her home room on time?

Though, she need not really worry about that for another. She looked at her watch—one of the few technologies that the Wizarding World adopted—and realized, she had been with Harry already for...quite a few hours, she had about six before she had to be safe, back up in her old tower.

At the top, she contemplated. _What in the world is this staircase doing here? If they only ascend to the top, with nothing left but a landing?_

It wasn't until Harry knelt down, in front of a carving on the wall—a snake, she noticed—and spoke Parseltongue, that she noticed that it was a secret passage. One meant for parselmouths.

Vaguely, did she notice that it was some place familiar, that they entered. With the cobalt walls, and the bronze trim. Walking further out, Harry just behind. She was about to turn the corner, when she quickly turned around, tripping Harry, straddling his lap, and bringing her face in close, wrapping her arms around him.

"Ssh!" she said, letting her breaths come out in rasps—which wasn't hard, those steps were long and arduous—before letting out a contented sigh, her forehead touching his, as they both blushed something furious.

"Tch!" she heard from behind, as her breath still came out ragged. "Somebody got here first—come on Darcy."

"I'm coming," she giggled, as her footsteps seemed to turn around, walking off.

"Damn..." Su laughed. "I don't think they had enough visibility to discern who I was; but I am blaming you, if rumors spread."

"Shit...if they had noticed..." she paled at the thought; but things could have taken a turn for the worse.

"Oh...shit..." she turned to face Harry, forgetting until a moment ago, that she was still on his lap...when...little Harry(?) seemed to have arisen from his slumber.

"We won't speak of this," said a furiously blushing Su. "We will forget this ever happened."

Harry nodded his agreement, not having the courage to look up at her. He needn't have worried, if he thought that she found this strange...she shivered, remembering that talk that she wished she had never heard from her father; but she could understand his reasoning now. This was her own fault, as this was the only idea she could come up with at the time.

 **POV: Harry**

He was embarrassed. Harry couldn't bear to face her right now. How could that have happened; why has his body been acting like this, for the past year. True, he understood the concept, he understood the meaning of puberty...Madame Pomphrey was kind enough to explain that to him; not that he didn't already know about it, but she had a somewhat twisted pleasure, he could see it in her eyes, as she tormented him with facts.

Was it some sort of trait, needed to become a healer or doctor? To be a sadist? He was quite sure that it had to be written in with the job description.

Anyway, as the two descended the stairs—the doors closed right after they walked through, both on their ways in and out—when she had finally explained her reaction. She found that they were in her common room, and she did not want to be found with a Gryffindor, in there. She would be as much an outcast as him.

So, when she saw the two of them, walking over, holding hands and staring into each-others eyes—not paying attention to her—she freaked.

This was something he could understand, he was sure he had never even heard mention of another student entering Gryffindor Common Room.

Apparently, the area was some sort of make out spot, and she recognized it. So the first thing that came to mind, was to act as if that was what they were doing. With the added benefit of covering his colors. Since he was wearing a black robe, with scarlet and gold trim.

Descending the steps took vastly less of an amount of time and energy. And when they made it to the bottom, instead of doing more searching, they checked all of the other Founder's rooms, learning that each had a set of steps, leading them to each house common room—or so they had guessed.

Further down the hall, they found a wooden set of double-doors,, oak, shiny and looking new, with a mahogany finish. It was strange, because it did not fit with the rest of the interior, down here in the Chamber of Secrets. Where everything was covered in dust and grime.

Caution was how they had planned to move about, since they had no idea what was down here; but that went right out of the window, now that they had seen this door.

Making his way forward, Harry gripped the handle, opening it, and what he found lying behind, amazed him more than anything. It was a simple, modestly sized library—one couldn't expect a large one, from the times this chamber was built. Since books back then were written by quill.

But what had truly astounded him, was the fact that the room was grime free. True, there were dirt stains here and there, a few books seemed to be spread-eagle on the floor, and on the table, there was dumped coffee mug—newer, probably from Tom's time in the chamber—liquid that once spilled out, staining the varnish, of the mahogany tabletop.

It was kind of like the two had left the trash dump and headed straight into a beautiful meadow. The figurative stink of the chamber behind—they still had the bubblehead charm activated—and the beautiful view of a forest of books ahead.

"Astounding," he heard come from Su Li, who stood behind him. "If I had to guess, this room has had a preservation spell activated within it—yes, look here," she said, pointing to a runic carving on the wall. "This is a rune of preservation. They are simple enough to make; but at the same time, require immense amounts of magic to keep constantly activated. If I had my guess, the ley lines around this school, along with the constant fluctuations of magic, from us students and teachers, are what keep it activated."

"Yes Hermione."

"Ouch," he laughed, as she stomped on his foot—the tension from not long ago, somehow forgotten.

"Please, a lady does not wish to be compared to others," she said, with a flippant toss of her hair and a snide saunter as she walked away; before she began to laugh.

"That was how Narcissa Malfoy normally acts," she said, still laughing. "Honestly, it was the perfect name that her parents could pick for her, Narcissa, is quite the narcissist."

"Yeah," Harry replied, stunned. That act was actually pretty good, had him fooled for a minute. "I actually met her at the World Cup, this past summer. Her expression reminded me of someone who had dung caked under their nose."

"Oh," Su slyly responded, "Would that be someone you know that had that happen to them; or is it actually from personal experience?"

"Well, you know, I do often have to take Potions Class, so a lot of shit does come my way," Harry shrugged, grinning at her.

"So I have heard."

It was amazing, this was the first time in what felt like ages, that he got to joke around like this. He and Ron often would banter like this; but there was always the looming fact that he had to watch what he said around him. If the topic of money or somebody came around, wanting Harry's attention, Ron would walk away, gloomy and act as if it were he, Harry, who had done something wrong.

Making their way over to the shelves, he was indeed right, as he opened one of the books. They seemed to be so old, that they were hand written; though, many of the covers seemed to be embroidered. All in all, he would guess that there was around a thousand books in here. Which must have taken quite some time to collect; without their being a printing press, back then.

As he began searching through the library, to sate his newly found to learn...to survive this thrice damned tournament, he felt that maybe some of these could sate his inner-Hermione, when he saw a flash of light, and heard a little giggle...that for some reason, just did not seem right, coming from Su.

In her hands, she held not one; but two copies of the same book: _Potion Brewing: From Basics to Advanced._ It was a rather thick tome, and she looked up, a smile wide on her pretty face, "They are old enough, that they don't have a copyright protection spell."

 _'Ah, right,'_ Harry thought to himself. ' _I forgot about the fact that they put a spell of protection around these books, making them so you can't duplicate them._ Then a wide smile passed over his face too. _Now I know where I can get Hermione her presents from.'_

 _'I know that bringing her down here, even if she were too complain, she would stay, hibernating in this room alone; but I'm sorry Hermione...I need to find a place to take refuge from you also.'_

Which was true, he loved the girl like she was his own blood, a sister; but lately...she had been pestering him to make friends with Ron again. He knew it was because she did not want to break up their own little Trio; but asking him to concede, because Ron wouldn't apologize...it was a little too much...

Sitting down, adjacent to Su, who was still giddy, as she read the copied book, Harry began reading one he pulled out.

 _Runic magic has many great uses, this fact is often overlooked by people, who believe that since this stuff can be done by a wand...why bother? The truth being, why not?_

 _Yes, you can do everything with a wand, that you can do with runes; but runes can do so much more than simple, traditional, roman magic. First off, the Druids were an often nomadic people, so they loved to have their places of power protected. This, in turn, caused them to begin inscribing their written language with power, protecting places from invaders—which was the death of them, more oft; than not._

 _After they began to use the runes for protection, they learned that they could use the runes for a specific purpose, and began using them for stuff such as, making fire, outfitting a glove with protection or an attack, and spelling armor, to enhance its purposes._

 _Even later down the line, they began using them for more mundane stuff, cooking, cleaning, repairing. And all you would have to do, was imbue the rune with enough magic to keep it active, which could also be done with the latent magic, left in the air, due to peoples lack of control over the magic they use._

Harry was enamored, Hermione had told him all ot this stuff...true; but in the way she had said it, it was a far more text book explanation. Stuffy and dry. Setting the book down, Harry let out a low whistle, causing his compatriot to look up from her own book, that she had ever so giddily duplicated.

"Huh...?" asked the glassy eyed girl, who was just beginning to focus.

"Nothing, I am just regretting my foolish choice over classes."

Su stared at him with an uncomprehending look.

Heaving out a sigh, Harry said: "I let Ron coax me into taking Divination Class." Su grimaced, she had obviously heard of how the Divination's Professor had taken to predicting his imminent demise.

"A load of crock...that's what that subject is," she replied, shaking her head.

"No; she is a fraud, but it is more like...she doesn't even know when she is making a true prediction. When she does, she gets all glassy eyed and speaks from a trance."

Su gave him a look that told him that she wasn't buying into what he had just said.

"No, seriously! At the end of last year, during my examination, she went all strange...er, ah, stranger than usual."

This got a laugh out of Su. _Seriously_ , Harry thought, _she has quite the cute laugh._ He couldn't help but be drawn in, with the infectious way she bellowed out the hillarity.

"She actually made a prediction of what would happen that night...with, um...Voldemort's follower."

He saw her thinking back, over the events of last year, before she came to a conclusion... "Sirius Black," she said.

"No, not really," he said; before he could stop himself.

"What do you mean?" her eyes were sharp, and he knew that this was something else she would not let go of.

"Lets just say that last year, at the end of the year, I met a rat named Peter Pettigrew," her expression grew sharp.

"Don't give me that look. I got the same damned one, after Professor Snape, had told the Minister for Magic that I was confunded—which I was not—and before you come to any conclusions, imagine this scenario. My father's pride had led him to trust his friends; except for the wolfy, who they thought may have turned."

Harry chuckled at Su's blank expression. "Professor Lupin, my father and Sirius Black believed he may have turned, due to the lack of etiquette afforded to those of a lycanthropic nature."

Su nodded her understanding.

"Now, they knew they had a mole back then. Too many plans were getting out, so not trusting the Professor, he and Sirius had come up with a plan."

"Here is where everything gets complicated. Imagine if you will, everybody knew that my father would go to Sirius Black as a secret keeper; so the two of them decide to trust their other friend, the cowering simpering yet loyal, Peter Pettigrew and switched places...secretly."

"Now, after hearing this, what conclusion can you come up with, putting it together with the bits of story you know?'

Harry did not care if she knew this much, she would come to her own conclusion, and he could see her mind working a mile a minute to get to its destination, and he wondered if her journey would take her to the right place and this much, he had already told the Minister, at the end of last year. It couldn't implicate any of them any further.

Then he saw it, the realization of what these further implications meant. In truth, it was rather easy for one to come to the truth, with just that small bit of extra information.

"But he—" she began to say.

"The street was full of _Muggle_ witnesses, people who knew nothing of magic."

"But, all they could find of him—"

"Was a finger, right?"

Su nodded.

"The man I had met last year...was missing a finger."

Su began to shudder at the implications.

"But how!?" she yelled out. "They would have known, had he disapparated, people would have mentioned the noise!"

"But there was one other thing about this man that I met last year. He had been living for the past decade as an unregistered rat...in more ways than one."

Su mulled over his words.

"To be blunt...he was an unregistered rat animagi, and after he caused an explosion, he quickly cut off a finger, before he turned into one."

Su began to look utterly horrified at the prospect of what he was saying.

"But then...why haven't you said anything?" she asked, looking at him with doubt, confusion...and maybe a little contempt.

"Why haven't I...? I think you mean, why did Minister Fudge believe the words of a petty man, who was well-known for his hatred Sirius Black and my father. Both Hermione and myself gave him the information...and rather than checking into it, he called for the dementors to suck out his soul."

"Wait...does that mean that you were—"

"I was in the infirmary when he escaped," Harry said, not a flicker of his internal thoughts, showing on his face, "speaking with Professor Dumbledore and Hermione...or more like...arguing the man's innocence."

"Not that you would ever be able to figure that out, with the way he acted," Harry mumbled under his breath, just barely loud enough to be heard.

 **POV: Su Li**

Su was confused. On one hand, her parents had often told her of the corruption and neglect that goes on in the British Ministry; but on the other hand, he was telling her a truth—or so he believed—about a man, that was akin to the boogeyman for wizarding children.

If you don't go to sleep, Sirius Black will get you: Never turn your back on a Black, and: If you trust a Black, you will be as dead as a Potter. These are some of the sayings that had passed through the Wizarding World, the past thirteen years.

True, her parents never used those saying; but they—like everybody else—were shocked into the truth that Sirius Black betrayed the Potters'.

In fact, as she recalled hearing a few times, that it was the biggest shock to happen, during the war. Probably even more shocking than the defeat of the Darkest Wizard of their age, at the hands of a young infant.

Sirius Black, as she was starting to recall, was supposed to be like a brother to James Potter. She had heard that in school, they were often inseparable, and that when Lily married James, that she may have just married them both. Two bodies, one soul, that was another remark that she had heard from some people.

"How can you be so sure that it is the truth?"

"First off," Harry answered, "I am still alive. I went down there that night with every intention to kill that man."

"And you are sure that you are not being controlled by the imperius curse? You realize that that could go unnoticed? It is more like a subtle influence."

Harry stared at her blankly; before he began to laugh.

"What?" she asked, trying to figure out this confusing reaction.

"No, sorry," he laughed. "But the imperius curse is not that subtle. At least for me, anyways. I always hear it like a loud shout, on one side, you have the cajoling influence, telling you how good an idea something is; yet on the other side, there is a voice telling me how stupid an idea it is."

"The first time I was placed under it, I ended up arguing with Moody's influence and smashed my knees into the ground. And then after that, he went and made me continue until I was able to shrug it off without a hitch."

"I can honestly boast that I would be able to shrug that spell off and have never felt such an influence before—I would remember it."

 _Right,_ she thought, _I had actually heard about that. I just forgot._

"I don't know...this just seems rather..."

"Confusing?" he asked. "If you think it is confusing for you; imagine how it is for me. It was my parents who were killed. It was me, who stopped them from killing Pettigrew. I should have just—" he stopped himself from speaking; but she could guess what he was going to say next.

Merlin's beard, was that anger, revulsion, hatred, sorrow, and she couldn't tell whatever else emotion, had settled into his eyes. If what he had said was true, and there were no influences that had made him come to this conclusion, she could—well, not comprehend, but understand his feelings.

"Now, don't get me wrong, I am not saying that I believe you—honestly, I don't know you well enough for that—but if Sirius Black is innocent, why not take it to the Wizengamot?"

"The same Wizengamot who had done nothing when he was imprisoned for twelve years without a trial?"

 _S_ he hadn't thought about that; but he was right. If they had done nothing back then, then it would take something drastic, to make it happen now.

This was confusing, his arguments were actually compelling; but at the same time, this was something she did not want to believe. Because, if this was true, then an innocent man had been rotting with those dementors for twelve years before his escape. This was something she could not except...but at the same time, something she was raised to not turn a blind eye to.

"Okay, say that I believe you. What do you get out of me knowing?"

"Satisfaction?" Harry inquired.

"What?"

"Sorry, I just felt like telling somebody the truth, it had been welling up in me for the past five months. My own godfather unjustly being accused. So when you had assumed I meant him—"

"You had been compelled to argue the point."

"Yeah," he laughed, reaching for the back of his head. "Kind of foolish, if you ask me."

"Foolish yes; but understandable," she sighed. She had been around this boy for only a few hours, she barely even knew him, and here he was, toppling everything she ever knew. Now she was seriously contemplating becoming a cynic, and questioning everything she ever heard.

 **POV: Harry**

 _Why, why why, did I tell her?_ It was a bit of a redundant question, that he kept asking himself. Though, he knew the reason why, he just didn't want her slandering his godfather. Intentionally or not.

Thankfully, she did not dismiss his claim. She may have questioned his free will; but that was to be expected. Nobody just believes, that would either make them a liar; or too gullible for his tastes.

Getting up from his chair, he decided it was time to do some more exploring. And judging by the way Su was hopping up too, he thought that she agreed. Placing his book back—Su putting her copy in her bag—they made their way back out of the room.

The next room was different, it looked like a large gymnasium, covered in grime. Far too much grime. One side flat, as if it were a basketball court; but what caught Harry's attention was the other side.

Unlike when you enter the room, this side had steps and platforms. None of the platforms were connected; but just far enough away, that he thought he might be able to jump from one to another.

"Oh Merlin and Morgana, thank you for letting me see this!" Su gasped. Obviously she knew what it was; because he didn't.

"What is it?"

"You don't know?" she asked, almost seeming horrified.

"Um...no..." he said, giving her an unwavering stare.

"Sorry," she blushed. "I forgot that you grew up in the Muggle World."

"What it is, is a Dueling Arena—my best guess is that they used it for sparring. You see, on the flat side, you have your traditional dueling; but over here," she said, pointing towards the platforms, "you can use for strategical dueling."

"As you can guess, it is not that often used nowadays—Wizards are too lazy for this style—but in days past, we would put our best and brightest duelers, in this sort of field, to see who was truly the best."

"In my own opinion, I think it was Daniel Artson, he was undisputed champion for at least three seasons—the longest record ever. But there is also the theory that Jacob Swan was far his superior. He fought only one season; but was banned, for some reason."

"Some people say that it was because he stacked the odds; but others believe that he was too good, and the tournament officials son, was the up and coming star—the same official who banned him."

Harry nodded, this was rather interesting, he had never heard about the professional duels, for some reason.

"The best duelist we had in the past couple of decades," she said rather hesitantly, yet she was thoughtful too, "Was Sirius Black, he and your father sent a short time in the pro leagues."

This, Harry perked up to.

"Your father was good, real good; but he was four for twelve against Black. Though, I do not know how good they were at fighting against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's forces. Must have been pretty good, if they were able to survive so long."

Harry smiled to himself, he didn't think she noticed; but with the way she just said that, she must truly be having doubts. But then, with the way this ministry was run...Well, it was no secret, the bribes that had been taken and the cash that has exchanged hands.

He wished he could have seen it though. His father facing off, one on one, with his godfather. It must have been epic for the both of them.

Walking through the centuries worth of grime, Harry made his way up to one of the platforms. Sure enough, it was just wide enough a gap to jump across; but at the same time, just far enough, that if you did not give it your all, you would plummet four feet to the ground.

That may not seem much; but to anybody like Harry, who had racked up numerous injuries over the years...they knew what type of damage could be wrought from such a fall.

All over this side of the room—and it was quite the large room, mind you—the platforms had been littered, not only to jump across; but you could also hide and make your way behind a person, take cover, just plain using the terrain to their advantage.

After some time, the duo retreated from the sanctity of the room, making their way down the hall.

 **POV: Su Li**

After making their way from the dueling arena, the two had discovered one last room, before what they could see was the final one. This room was nothing much; maybe it had been a kitchen? It was hard to tell through the dust and decay; but one thing looked like the cauldrons that had been used for cooking in the past.

One little touch of her foot, had told her that she might never find out, as the decaying cauldron crumbled. Making the task even more impossible. Obviously they had put no preservation runes on any of the items in here. Which made sense, since there was always going to be a need to replace outdated cookware.

Leaving the room, they had headed for the final door...and to Su's astonishment...it was a potions lab. This was something Su would not let be left alone—and she felt a shudder from the boy standing next to her, as he looked into her fanatical eyes.

Well, in her defense, it was not like she was fanatical about the subject, in general; but all over the place were notes and preserved equipment—of course she would get fanatical about this. Her mother, a decently famous Potions Mistress would have felt as if she were in heaven.

Picking up a piece of parchment, that did not look that significantly old, she began to read:

 _T.M. Riddle_

 _Add eye of newt to the draught of death: Thirty minutes of constant clockwise stirring; widdershins every seventh stroke._

 _After the eye of newt is incorporated, then add the bleeding liver of man. This must be a fresh one, so the person should not have died before removal. I have found this really neat trick that I could use, it is a variation of the entrails spilling spell, made to work on targeted organs._

Su was shaking as she read. She was utterly horrified and who was this T.M. Riddle? Was he some sort of madman? As these thoughts crossed her mind, she had begun to lose her breakfast, due to what was had read.

Noticing, from the corner of her eye, Harry set down a beaker, and came over, a look of concern etched upon his brow.

Picking up the parchment, she saw him begin to read, as a look of sadness and apprehension came over his face. He knew, she suspected, who this T.M. Riddle was, it was clearly written on his face. A look of hatred and revulsion; and judging by how his eyes kept glancing at the top corner of that paper. She suspected that his attitude was more due to the name; than the contents.

 _Oh well,_ she thought, _if I stick close...maybe I can find out? He probably is; or has something to do with the incident in our second year...since some of this stuff seems rather fresh._ Catching her breath, Su stood up, feeling disgusted with the horrible taste of bile in her mouth. So, turning her wand upon herself, she used a quick tooth cleaning spell, mixed with an aquamenti to wash out the taste. Before feeling a bit more refreshed.

Sometimes, she hated being like this. Patient and waiting to get answers; but then, sometimes that was the only way to get a true answer. In truth, she didn't mind hanging around him...down here—not that she was afraid to be with him in public; but she saw what they did to the Granger girl, just for being close to him. Far too much scrutiny for her.

Finally, they started to look around again—Harry checking the parchments for anything he thought wouldn't stain her soul...thankfully. And there were a good few brews too. She would have to try them out, as they seemed to have a different procedures she and her parents had learned. But if the notes were of any indication, these procedures had fixed everything down to potency problems.

Well, from the notes, she could tell that they were not up to Snape's level...but if this person had kept up their brewing, they might eventually catch up. But some of these seemed rather old; so they may have already passed or passed away.

Take, for instance, the polyjuice that is done textbook can last for up to an hour. A person would literally have to drink it, on the hour, every hour, if tey wished the effects to continue.

With this directional guide, it says that the effects last for five hours. Better, far better; but Snape, by the time he finished school and got his Master's License for Potion's, he created one that lasted for a full day.

Seriously, she did not like the man one bit; but she did have a healthy dose of respect for him. Though, if she were to be blunt, as she looked at the boy rummaging through shelves and drawers, pulling out utensils and beakers; though no...useful ingredients—she respected his mother far more. A Muggle-Born, coming to this school, knowing nothing; then being a Potion's Mistress, right out of school, being beaten only by Severus Snape, by only a small margin.

It was funny, and she wondered just where did she learn such skills, to be able to keep up with the son of Eileen Prince...though she guessed that would be Snape after she married. That lady was supposed to be one of the best brewers to ever live. Though not much had been heard from her after leaving the school. So, either she cared little for prestige; or she quit making potions; but with Snape the way he was...

throughout the room, there were many labs set up, with all of the proper equipment (her parents never cared for the frivolity of the useless enhancements that practically do nothing) had they not been using a bubblehead charm, then they might have gotten a big whiff of the stink that must have permeated the room. Thankfully, the spare clothes she brought with her were in a bag that was sealed from outside influences, such as odors and the damp.

To the side stood a few doors, one that she had decided to open. Beyond it was probably where they had stored the ingredients, as there were a bunch of shelves that had once held something; but now had all turned to dust, filth, and whatever else was caked onto the shelves. Though, for some odd reason, the room was large...too large for stocking in a secret chamber?

Exiting the stock area, they came to a silent agreement, one that they seemed to have agreed upon while entering. Save the best for last.

Adjacent to the entrance was a cave-like tunnel leading to somewhere...where they knew not; but it certainly looked promising.

 **HPatWTS**

Walking through, they had been in the tunnel for about ten minutes, darkness filling the void that a simple lumos couldn't touch. Well...that was how it was supposed to be; but right now they couldn't believe their eyes.

What should have been nothing but the void of light; was quite bright, and windy too? Green all around,with a humid eighty degrees, seemingly keeping the foliage alive.

This was obviously not outside; but one would never be able to tell. That was, unless they had been in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, where the ceiling was enchanted to show the outside. This room seemed to do this on a much grander scale, as they had yet to see the end of the room. All they could see was the cave-like walls, the enchanted ceiling, trees, and shrubbery. Along with all sorts of plants, small animals, and insects.

As Wizards of Hogwarts, they obviously did not need to worry about stuff like Lyme Disease; Madame Pomphrey would never let them go a year without immunization. And immunization in the Wizarding World was not like that of its Muggle counterpart, they truly worked one-hundred percent of the time.

Marching forward they made their way through the shrubbery, using reducto's to cut a path. Honestly, she had never had to do such things before; but she was having quite a bit of fun by doing this. It was kind of like spelunking; though, now that she thought about it, it actually was.

Green, red, yellow blue, there were so many colors that she had seen since the start . That was when a thought came to her. Cultivation. This was a cultivation room, that was why there had been so much room in the storage facilities, they had cultivated their own stuff.

The immense size of this room told her that they had to have spent many a years creating it. Something they could not have done alone. Her thoughts were honestly on the Dwarves for helping. That was her only conclusion.

The Goblins could have been hired; but they were the type to hire out to other races and none of the other builder races were native of this land. While Dwarves were practically everywhere; though they tended to keep to themselves if not hired out for anything.

Twenty-five; maybe even forty-five minutes into their exploration, they came across what seemed like a hot spring. It was probably not a real one, since it did not have the smell of one—they had removed the bubblehead charms out here—and the room smelt quite refreshing. Like summer; though neither of them liked the humidity that much.

Clean, refreshing water; not good for drinking; except maybe for a hot tea, was what they had found. And thinking of all the grime a sweat on her, she was eyeing it with hunger; though, she stopped herself from hopping in, at a glance towards Harry.

Though, had she been any worse than she already was, she might not have cared and stripped herself then and there. Thankfully she was not to that type of desperation yet, and a fresh memory from earlier made her blush, helping her keep her restraints, no matter how grimy she was.

Further on, they had found no end to the room. They had to have been going for what was at least two hours; before they decided to turn around. For most of the trip, Harry had been quiet. Taking in deep and rugged breaths. He was obviously not used to such vigorous activities—she would have to talk to him about that. If he wanted to survive this tournament, then he should be able to do at least this much physical work.

But then, as she thought back to when she had seen him with his shirt off, she had thought he was on the scrawny side. A six pack had confirmed that he had at least done some exercise; but that was probably from his training for quidditch; which would be far too little for what he needed.

Thinking back, she had thought about all of the times her uncle had made her teach the younger students martial arts. He was big into them; and though Su was not the greatest of them; she had found herself a rather apt teacher. One could not teach the young and not learn patience. Which was probably the reason she was able to take in what Harry had told her this day, with a skeptical; yet not dismissive ear.

By the time they had gotten back, Harry was drenched in sweat, his too big for him clothes—he removed the robe which was over top of this outfit—clinging to his skin, while her skin tight; yet athletic outfit had done the same for her. Though she was too tired to feel embarrassed about how much of it turned out to be see through with that much of an amount of sweat sticking to her.

Thankfully though, her clothes were not white, so it was not too bad.

 **POV: Harry Potter**

He was exhausted. Harry could honestly say that he had never been this tired in his life. Not even after his first quidditch practice with Oliver Wood. And that man was a fanatic. Going out had been the chore; but coming back had been so much easier. It was the lack of obstacles and clear destination, that had made it easier.

Now, they found themselves lying next to each-other on the floor of the library—too afraid to get the decent looking and comfortable seats dirty and grimy from what was caked all over them, and stink of whatever they stunk of.

Laying there, Harry began to laugh.

"What is it?" Su asked, laughing herself.

"I don't know; but this place is amazing. I can't believe I haven't come down here before this?" he replied in a surprised voice.

"Think of it this way. You had come down here at the point that you most needed a refuge and you gained a new friend. Me! I think that makes it all worth it."

"So you are willing to be friends with me?" Harry asked, surprised. Honestly, he had been worried about that after spilling out so much incoherent truth.

"Sure," she replied with a devilish smile. "You are interesting, and finding out the truths of what you have and haven't told me seem far more interesting than more than half of my friends."

"So I am entertainment?" Harry chuckled. That did not really bother him, honesty made better grounds for a friendship. Though he felt bad for her, if she ever did find the truths she sought answers to. When Pandora opened that box, it may have contained hope; but it also had far more despair.

This was a box that he hoped she never truly opened; but at the same time, it was her decision.

Laying there, in the comfortable chill of the library, he was unable to remove the smile that had formed on his face at her words. Friendship was something that was rare for him. And even rarer yet, were people who looked at him with anything but the scorn they reserved for liars.

 **HPatWTS**

some time had passed before Harry was able to get. In truth, it was already way past the time for them to get to their common rooms for homework and bed. Lately he had been getting his work done in a timely fashion, as he hung out with Hermione in the library. So he need not worry about that, and apparently Su wa rather diligent with hers also. So she was good. That was a Ravenclaw for you, only the cool kids got their work done first.

Chuckling, Harry tried to get up. Su actually revived herself more than half an hour ago and was refreshed after filling up a canteen with some water—one did not roam a school this large, without one. You learn that lesson in your first year. You may be able to create water with a simple spell; but that did not mean it would go straight into your mouth; it normally soaked you clean through; without getting more than a drop into your mouth.

And here Harry lay—star of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team—stuck on the floor with little energy. Su had a good chuckle at that. Actually, she kept making remarks about how his lack of stamina would kill him...and to be frank, right now he believed it. He had read over the previous school tasks and they had mentioned some physical aspects to the tests; not much, but they were there.

Harry groaned as he sat up, reaching for a text that lay not far from him, with idle curiosity.

 _Horcrux: A Speculative Guide to the Unknown._ There was no name on it, so Harry knew not who the author was, and in fact, it was actually hand written in an almost archaic hand; but decipherable script, for one who had come across it many times in the libraries, when he was younger.

 _Horcrux's are of the unknown. A spell that many have fiddled with and created throughout the centuries; but none of their writings have been foud. This could be attributed to the Department of Mysteries, where we believe that many of these people learned it._

 _Many believe that the Department of Mysteries have been working only the good, for all of these years...these people are fools. The Department of Mysteries works on the unknown, both good facets and bad._

 _I myself, believe that I am of their kind; though they have never sought me out. Maybe they think me evil? If they do...I do not blame them. But in truth, I feel much the same way as them._

 _My interests had begun with simple work on the soul. I have always been curious of such things: What makes it tick? Why is it not tangible? Can one be brought out of the body?_

 _This, after many years has brought me to the horcrux. True, I know many people find them evil...but they are just too interesting to ignore. Yes, I have killed many in my pursuits and have yet to figure out why I have not split my soul yet. Do I need a specific anchor? Can it work on humans? Do they need to be alive?_

 _Ugh...this bothers me so... But I have yet to give up and believe I have found a way. I think one needs the truest of intents to kill, in order to split their soul. No actual spell needed. This would explain my lack of success though; because regardless of how many times I do it, I have yet to completely pull off a remorseless killing. I kill in the sake of research; not because of any lack of morality; but I guess at the same time, that makes it worse._

Harry's hand began to tremble, as he pulled out his wand and made a copyof the book. Harry then touched his forehead with the most fearful apprehension he had ever felt. _Was this why? Is that how the connection was enabled?_ Fear wrought his soul, as the implications became manifest, and it had not escaped Su's notice.

"Harry...are you okay?" she asked cautiously, as if she feared she may break him. If that was the case, she need not bother about worrying; because if his suspicion came true...he may already be broken.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was a man of many unique talents, parselmouth being just one. But from what Harry had read up on the ability, it came from a family where their ancestor had bonded with a Basilisk Queen. Something rarely known; but Salazaar had admitted to such. Probably because he knew that the only one around here had already bonded him as a familiar.

The one that lay dead out in the antechamber.

"No Su..." he tried smiling; but it didn't seem to work. He could only think: _A Potter had Gryffindor blood, true; but it never mixed with the Slytherin line. So how can I speak the language of the snake?_ "I'm fine..." he said as he made a copy of the journal, putting one in his bag; and the other his pocket.

"I...I think I have to talk to the professor about something..." he said, averting his eyes. "Would you like me to take you out; or you could stay in here if you like, I think that I am going to stay down here for the night...best to avoid Hermione if I want to sleep," he rambled. "But I do need to see the Headmaster first."

"Something is definitely wrong here Harry. I am not stupid enough to believe your false bravado...does it have something to do with that book?"

"Yes..." Harry answered after a few minutes of contemplation.

"What is it?" she asked, not out of curiosity; but genuine concern. He would not tell her what he suspected; but he could give her a truthful answer.

"It has something to do with what happened down here, two years ago. And to placate you even further...what you had read earlier was... _genteel_ , compared to this," as he said this, he remembered the memory of Tom two years ago, and thought that he could understand what he truly was now. He was not a memory; but a piece of a soul; but that also made him worry about him. Would he become like Voldemort...Tom had sad that the two were similar, could that be what he meant?

"I'll stay..." she replied. "As much as I do not feel it is ideal for us to stay the night together...for obvious reasons...I feel as if you should not be left alone tonight." and Harry was truly thankful for her concern. He needed to speak with the Headmaster; but after that, would he be able to sleep. Right now, he was truly scared.

"Thank you..." he said so quietly, that he was only sure that she heard, because of the nod she gave to him, with the serious expression on her face. Harry then began his trek up to the Headmaster's Office.

The way he decided to go was through Gryffindor's room. He was sure that it also led up to Gryffindor Tower—he saw the stairs earlier. Making his way through, Harry headed up them. The walk took even longer than before, and it was way passed midnight _._ Right now his watch had said that it was three am, so almost everybody should be asleep.

Making it up the steps after an hour and a half...these steps were obviously far more numerous than what was made for Ravenclaw Tower—which should have been obvious to anybody who knew where to find them both—Gryffindor Tower was further up than any other house in the building...by far.

Exiting...Harry had encountered a situation that he could never expect.

"Where have you been...Harold James Potter?" a vexed Hermione asked.

 _Wait...seriously, was his name even Harold? He thought back on all of the documents of his that he had eve seen and..._ "My name is not even Harold, it is Harry...just Harry."

"Of course your name is Harry! What do you take me for, an idiot!?" she snapped. Of course Hermione would know something about him that even he had to think about.

"Wait...Harry...are you alright?" she asked after she looked into his eyes. "You look a little...and you stink! Where tha hell have you been? And how did you get passed the Marauder's Map?" she asked, holding it in her hand. She must have been worried, so she had to have snuck up into— "Wait...you didn't have Ron get you that?"

"Of course not, you idiot" Hermione harrumphed. "I went and got it myself. Even had to tell that Seamus off...oh god I did not need to see what he was doing. Does he never close that curtain when he..." Hermione shivered. "and a simple silencio..." her voice went quiet and trailed off.

Harry also had to shiver at the implications...unfortunately, he also had to walk into that a few times and Seamus just smiled, as if he were caught taking somebody's candy. Well, at least it was not because he was into any of them in the dorm; he was just one of them people who did not care.

"Harry, the map...you were not on it at all...and then, you just appeared over there," she said, pointing at a small enclosure in the common room, distracting her thoughts. One that not even enough people noticed to hide and make out in. was there some sort of spell on it. Harry knew that certain notice-me-not spells were only good on certain types of people; while others weren't affected at all.

Quietly, Harry sat down and said, " The Chamber of Secrets."

"The Chamber of what!?" she quietly yelled. Thankfully they knew nobody was in hearing distance, since she had the map out and their dots were the only ones in the area.

"Harry, that could have been dangerous...going down there alone. You haven't been there in ages, and what if one of the professors had found out? I mean, look at you, something did happen, right?"

In truth, Harry had to say something...this was Hermione; though he really didn't want to. So, he pulled out the copy of the book he found in the library down there and handed it to her.

"I need to see the Headmaster, it should be fine if I get caught. This is something he needs to know and I don't have the password anyway. But even so...he was the one to encourage me into finding other ways in, and there was one in each common room, if I didn't miss my guess...so that should be fine also."

"Though, I still am a little concerned, he told me that just after the thought crossed my mind."

"Legilimency," Hermione replied. "The art of understanding ones thoughts. I should have figured he could do that...but it is just so obscure. People often learn occlumency to counter it; but there are so few ways to learn such a thing, and that is why it is not illegal. Well, that and for the reason that it is impossible to even know unless they are really unskilled with it, and then they just get a hefty fine or five years in Azkaban; if unable to pay."

"You mean he can read my mind?" Harry asked, horrified.

"No Harry," he began to relax until her next words came out. "Harry, the mind is not a book, people cannot just read it. No, there are subtle differences, for instance, rather than reading, it is more like they discern your thoughts. They can see what is in there, and have to piece it together like a puzzle—and I don't mean those twenty piece jigsaw puzzles either. Like one of those thousand piece puzzles that you have to hope you haven't lost a piece by the end."

"Fuck..." Harry replied.

"Language Harry," she replied with no real emotion.

"Alright, I am going to get going; but before that. That book, I found it down there and it will tell you everything I am fearing right now and why I have to go. Though return it to me when your done, I haven't finished yet."

She nodded, looking at the book as he left.

 **POV: Hermione Granger**

"Fuck..." that was the only thing she could say, after reading the journal.

She had always known that Harry had a bad life; but how could things get any more fucked up than this? It was a testament to how messed up her mind was that her only response was to swear. Now she couldn't even bring herself to have him make up with Ron...for a few days at least.

 _Why did things always happen to Harry?_ Her thoughts were not akin to the way Ron thought this, she was truly worried for him, and with this tournament running...how was he going to cope?


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay…sorry, I wish I could say that there was a good reason for my absence…but I just had not even turned on my pc in quite a few months. D &D, work, so on and so forth. **

**Now, this chapter is short; but I felt that there was not much more I could do to add to it. It seemed the perfect stopping point.**

 **I am going to try and start back up writing. I mean, I love this story and have to, for my own sake. I have been working on it for years.**

 **Now, truthfully, most of this chapter had been done since…I think, December, damn, that was a long time ago. Hoo, boy! I needed to buy a device to get this chapter off an old hard drive, since I felt that this chapter was really well done by that point, and just had no motivation to rewrite it.**

 **Now, I will leave you alone and let you read.**

 **Chapter 4**

"Cockroach cluster!" Harry shouted, as the statue of the gargoyle moved aside. _Ewe…that actually worked_?

It had been the better part of fifteen minutes that Harry had been sitting here shouting out different candies for the gargoyle. And all the while, he thought that the thing was starting to get perturbed…but judging by the look of relief, that crossed upon that stony face; he knew that it was already well passed that point.

He couldn't imagine what type of existence it must be, to have cognizance; but only be able to stay in front of one door, for the past millennium, only interacting with professors, and the occasional wayward student. It must be hell?

"Sorry…" Harry apologized to the statue that held the door open for him. And oddly enough, a stony smile appeared on its face, before Harry began to ascend the rotating steps.

The hallway was much as one would expect from the Headmaster, nothing but pinks, purples, and a flamboyant blue. In all honesty, it was beginning to hurt Harry's eyes. Other than the color though, the only thing that decorated it, were a few former Headmasters, that had left from their frames as he passed.

It was with some great relief that he had actually made it to the door; a minute and a half later. Where he was surprised as it flung open to his presence.

The room was much as it was before, when Harry visited during his second year. Gadgets aplenty, some whizzing, others spinning, and one or two were even puffing out black smoke. On the walls were portraits of Headmasters throughout the ages. Hundreds of them. And according to Hermione, they all gave their undivided loyalty, to the current headmasters and headmistress's as they take control over the school and its wards.

This, as one could tell, came from Hogwarts: a History, one of her most favorite volumes, as it explained much on the running of the school, along with a more dated history…or so she said.

"Lemon drop, Harry?" was the first thing that was heard upon his entering. It was Dumbledore who obviously sat there, in flamboyant purple pajamas, decorated in golden stars, a purple night cap, complete with a fuzzy white little pompom, and pink, fuzzy, bunny slippers.

Harry had originally come up here feeling angered and perturbed, after finding out the headmaster was slipping in and out of his mind; but how was he supposed to stay angry after seeing such a sight? It was ridiculous; not unexpected; but ridiculous, none the less.

"Dropping his head into his hands, as he shook it. Harry resigned himself to his fate of coming up here unangered. Though, he still did feel highly disturbed, thinking of trying ways to hide his thoughts and emotions.

"Well, it doesn't exactly work that way. A young lad such as yourself first need to learn discipline—now don't get me wrong, Harry. You have excellent control for one so young; but that in and of itself is not enough."

"The first thing you want to start with, is learning to control the flow of magic within your body; though it is not fully essential, I find that it brings your defenses up so much faster, and is quite surprisingly easier than one may think. Sadly, it is a trait that many had lost over the past century. But, in truth, one just needs to start by feeling their magic as they expel it from themselves, and it becomes blatantly obvious to you, how to control it."

"But sir...how does one feel their own magic?" Harry asked, unable to stop himself from being bated.

"Simple. First thing you want to do, is focus on your wand, as you cast your spells. It is not so obvious without being told; but there will be a feeling, a rightness, as it is expelled. You will feel it, and always have…just without ever realizing it. But that is only the beginning, first you want to focus on that, every single time you cast—try it, a simple lumos will do."

And so Harry did try. The feeling was there, he could feel it, after taking a deep breath and igniting his wand with light. It was a strange tingling feeling; but as the professor had said, there was a rightness to it, a complete feeling, that one does not have without this use.

"Do not let this feeling get to you Harry," the professor sighed. "I know that you are young, and faultless—for the most part—but do not make the same mistakes as I had, when I was young."

Harry stared at the feeble looking old man, for a moment. Confused, unaware of what he meant. "What exactly do you mean, sir?" he asked, in an effort to understand the Headmaster's words.

"Ah, what it was like to be young…for right now Harry, I will exercise my right to not answer that and leave it open with the fact that such a feeling had led many over the ages into the belief of our superiority over Muggles."

"But maybe…when you are ready…but understand this, I myself am not as faultless as many believe. If people understood my youth, there were many mistakes that I wish I hadn't made, as well as many more that I do regret."

"This is something I do want you to speculate and ponder on. Maybe not aloud; but to yourself and any you trust above all."

"And do remember these words—as conceited as they may sound," the old man said with a feeble smile; one so unlike his normal demeanor. "People like myself understand much—too much; maybe—and often we can comprehend and understand many things with certainty; but when we are wrong; or just plain do nothing about it, the catastrophes that occur may result in many deaths... So many deaths..." he said with a weary sigh.

"There are two such occasions in my life that this had happened, and while I cannot claim you to be the genius that I am; you are quite formidable, in your own right, and even clever enough to have suspected something only I have, since the night of your parents death. Do not take the routes that I myself have chosen."

"My first choice, was to turn away, after a certain event; a certain someone…and for a lack of a better analogy, my first love. This...probably saved many lives...many more than you could imagine. But my second choice, I chose to ignore and watch...this allowed Tom a foothold; had I been more vigilant, back then, then I could have avoided much bloodshed...not least of which, would have been your parents."

Harry sighed; he was beginning to understand the old man's predicament; though he still felt violated. This was something he could forgive. Forgive; but never forget.

"As expected of you. I implore you to never forget this," Harry cringed, placing his hands over his forehead, as the old man chuckled.

"No Harry, this time it was written on your face. I do not deny that I do delve into peoples minds on occasion; but I have also mastered something much harder than legillimency.

And that is, the art of reading people. Something that could be considered very frightful, combined with my ability to comprehend ones thoughts, and there are only very few who have escaped this perception of mine."

"And as sad as it is to say, the worst one by far, was Peter Pettigrew. He was always envious of your father and godfather, I admit; but always seemed so… _loyal_ …"

"But above all, he was a rather excellent occlumens, something I can attest to, only few were better. Not even something your father or godfather could boast. Remus though…he is almost as gifted as Severus."

These words caused Harry to scowl, if there is one regret that he had, it was letting that little rat go. He should have let Sirius and Remus kill that foul little creature.

"This is what I mean, you are a good child; but I can see the darkness that lurks there. If you are ever at that crossroads, the one where you are forced to take a life. Remember this, it is our acts that define us, and just because you have to kill, that does not mean you are evil."

With a blank stare, Harry just gazed at the Headmaster.

"Yes," the Headmaster chuckled. "I understand the thought without taking a look into your mind. I am serious…I may not have killed Voldemort; but do not think that compassion, young one. I just merely have never had the chance at a killing blow…as he is every bit the duelist I am. We just excel in differing areas."

"And if truth be told…it will never be me who is capable of defeating him. I am old, and growing more feeble by the year, and when he returns—which we both know he will—it has to be another that defeats him. I do not know who…" the Headmaster replied, staring intently at the ceiling, "but I am sure that there will be one capable, eventually."

"But remember this for yourself, as well as others. You are a beacon of hope for this generation, and even as they may now seem to hate you; they will once again come to venerate you—fickle is the will of Wizards—just be careful on how you treat them. You will need them."

This was a touchy subject for Harry, he did not understand a need for people who would turn on you, at the drop of a hat. People who were just the day before, joking and acting friendly. Then the next, they turn their staves and pitch forks on you, wanting to burn you at the stake.

The Headmaster sighed. "You will eventually understand Harry. You will need them; make no mistake; though you should remember this, and it is good that it happens now. When it is not too late; but as you know, Tom is trying to bind his soul to a body, and there are some rather…nefarious methods he could use. So try and not forget what Sybil had foretold."

"Foolish as she may act, she still does have seer blood. And there are only a few of us who know this…herself not being one of them," the Headmaster tittered.

Harry sighed, and took the words to heart. He did not know why; but even after learning of the Headmaster delving in and out of his mind, he trusted the man had good intentions. But at the same time, he recalled the saying: Sometimes the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

"But as for now, I have one thing I want you to focus on, each night. And that chamber may help, with the lack of natural light. You are to focus on a single burning candle. Focus your will on this single flame—focus your magic. Remember the feeling you had a few moments ago, and that will aid you, use it, extend it. And do it without your wand."

"This practice will focus your mind, and help you gain full control of your magic, and once you have done that, learn to shape the flame. I believe this is something suited to you, and your little girlfriend that is currently hiding in the chamber."

Harry's face went bright red, from the bottom of his neck, to the tips of his ears. "I...I, she is not my, we barely even..."

"I know Harry," he said, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. "The young are always so fun to tease."

"But before I send you on your way, enabling me to read this fancy little journal you brought me. You should take that cloak of yours, and bring Miss Li to the kitchens, it is obvious that the both of you are famished, and while you are there, there is a certain House-Elf, that could use a little help."

"Please talk to her—I will have a friend take you—and you should get to know her she may just need someone to bond too...she is withering away; and despite Miss Granger's good intentions, freedom does not suit all—especially when it is the one thing they have never known."

"You should also find a way to help Miss Granger. What she is trying is noble and admirable; but if she continues this crusade with such a narrowminded strategy…she may end up angering the wrong people. You should try and talk her into quieting her campaign, and figure out methods first. And should she not figure anything after some time, bring her up, and I could run her some ideas. I mean, I could now; but think of this as a good lesson for the young to learn."

"Well now, I think I will take these withered old bones off to bed. And since I already have my reading lantern set up, I think I should do a bit of light reading before," he said with a smile, as he excused himself.

It was as he passed through the door—the one at the bottom of the stairs—leading him out of the Headmaster's office, that he realized a few extra implications. The Headmaster had just told him that he had suspected that he was a horcrux, since the night that it had happened, and he had seemed to get far more accurate information out of Harry's mind, than Harry had expected was possible.

He was angry—very angry—with the Headmaster; but it was just so hard to argue with a man who seemed to be able to disarm that anger as you spoke to him. And to top it all off, he barely even spoke a word, just asked a few questions, and was read from beginning to end.

"Well, see you Goliath," Harry said, as he walked off, leaving an obviously befuddled, and newly named gargoyle. But...it was such a good Disney cartoon, so how could he not use the name?

 **HPatWTS**

Walking at a slow pace, Harry thought about many things, on his way back to an empty Gryffindor Common Room. Where he found that Hermione had already gone to bed—probably thinking over what exactly could be done for Harry; but since he doubted that her favorite library had explicit information on how to create or remove a horcrux, he doubted she would figure anything out.

Actually, he felt kind of bad for her; he forgot to think about how she would spend hours, searching, checking and rechecking everything, for information about the subject, only to realize, that nothing could be done; or else Dumbledore would have done something already...wouldn't he?

This was starting to get irritating, now he was beginning to question everything he knew about the kindly old Headmaster. But then, why shouldn't he? The man was casually violating his and everybody else's minds.

Making his way up to his room, he grabbed his cloak from under the snoring noses of his dormmates, before putting it in his bag and making his way over to the little notice me not cove. Where he checked the map, for any and all people, possibly in the vicinity (there were none).

Though, oddly enough he did see that Alastor Moody…seemed to be in close vicinity to Bartemius Crouch, down in his room, this late at night…and for some odd reason, Harry just did not want to know the reason why. He seemed to be there quite often too?

But then, even Argus Filch, seemed to be pacing back and forth, in front of Madame Pince's room…So, just as he thought, Harry snickered to himself. He was sure that even if there was nothing going on between them—though, he was sure there was something—Filch definitely has a thing for her.

Kneeling down, he whispered quietly to the wall " _ **Open,"**_ in parseltongue, before it gently and quietly slid open.

With all that had happened, and all that he found out tonight, Harry was quite preoccupied with thoughts of aggravation and anger as he walked the stairs, down to the Gryffindor suite, out into the hallway that led to the library. Only to find that Su had momentarily fell asleep.

Momentarily, because she seemed to have woken up as he noisily shut the door.

"Ah…sorry," Harry apologized. "I didn't realize that you would be asleep."

"That's fine," Su replied, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I just kind of dozed off while reading."

Which seemed to be true, as she seemed to have committed a crime so heinous, that either Madame Pince or Hermione, would roll over in their graves…had they been dead; but alive they would be shrieking and screaming, due to the bit of drool she got on the corner of the Advanced Potions book.

"And you call yourself a Ravenclaw," he accused, smiling at her.

"Ravenhaws," she both yawned and chuckled…or at least her body tried to do both at the same time.

"I mean, Ravenclaws do tend to do a lot of studying," she began to say, sleep still clouding her eyes. "But with that, you will also see that we tend to be the worst for books, and are hated more by the librarian than any other house in the school."

"We end up wrinkling pages, drooling on them," she said while wiping the drool from her face. "Eating while reading, and so much more."

"In truth, I think there are very few of us, who are like your friend Granger."

With that, Harry had to agree. Hermione was one of them, what you see, is what you get, types. And often she reminded him of that show, The Highlander. Which was something he watched quietly while Dudley only had eyes for the TV, and both Petunia and Vernon were away.

There was that saying at the beginning of the episodes: There can be only one. And with the way she treated academics, she would never tolerate somebody in the school being equivalent to her, and he could picture the ire she would have, if somebody was her equivalent.

Basically, he loved her a lot, she was his sister; his best friend; but that did not stop him from understanding just how conceited she could be. But it was because of that conceit, that his life had been saved so many times, along with others, who knew nothing of what they had done.

"But, please tell me that you thought of bringing food?" she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

"No…sorry," Harry replied. "But I can do you one better. The Headmaster had told us to head to the kitchens. I guess there is something I need to check out there anyway?"

"…The Headmaster knows we are down here?" Su asked, panic rising in her voice. "But…if the Headmaster—"

"No, he knows that we are down here; but he is fine with it," and in a lower, yet bitter voice he finished. "And it's not like I even told him…"

"Damn…you actually spoke to the Headmaster…Why?" Su asked, with a complicated expression on her face.

"I…had to, is the only reason I can give. The information I had found was…personal. To say the least. And he already knew I was planning on coming down here, so I saw no harm in it."

"You know Harry…I am beginning to think that Snape was right about you. You do get away with a lot."

Harry was about to argue. Those were words he never liked to hear; but the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was true. Though he may not be as bad as Snape intended to make him out to be. He did seem to get away with a lot of stuff, that other students would get expelled over.

 **POV: Su Li**

Su was tired. No. tired was too inadequate a word for it; she was exhausted. But she did not regret this day at all. How could she, as she followed Harry Potter down a flight of steps, leading from Gryffindor Tower, heading towards the kitchens.

And not to mention he had an invisibility cloak. A freaking invisibility cloak. Which it cost more than a decade's worth of salary for one. And it wasn't even one of those cheap disillusioned ones that are semi-affordable; but one that rendered them completely invisible.

This was extraordinary, almost as extraordinary as the Chamber of Secrets itself.

Well…okay, maybe not that extraordinary. But when you add in that map that he was looking at, it came pretty-damn close.

Su knew he was trying to keep it a secret and all; but that was rather hard to do, when they had to huddle up at every corner. And it did not take no genius to tell what exactly that map was.

Seriously, it had a bunch of names and dots moving around, and when she took a peak at where he was looking, it had their names, huddled around two dots in close proximity. That was what tipped her off to the reality of the map.

A map that told the whereabouts of all the people in the school…incredible; but why didn't he use it last year, when that Sirius Black psycho was trying to kill him?

Or did he? Judging by what little she knew of him, and by the whispers that she heard, about the ending of last school year…maybe he did? She wouldn't have blamed him, if her parents were betrayed and killed by their best friend, Su had no idea on how she would react.

Okay…as a Witch, Su thought she had seen many things before; but today has definitely topped the cake. First, there was a giant corpse of a sixty-foot basilisk, and now a giggling pear?

Now that had to be the whipped buttercream icing on the cake…which took only two seconds to be proven wrong.

"Harry Potter sir! Harry Potter sir!" a little green elf exclaimed, knocking him to the floor. That servant was really fast, and it almost knocked her down too!

"D-Dobby?" Harry replied, his eyes opening wide with shock and surprise.

Okay…so apparently he knew the little excitable elf; but had no idea he was here. Or at least that was the feeling Su got from his reactions.

"Oh my! Dobby is so excited that you would remember such a lowly creature as he! Dobby is so excited about the fact that Harry Potter had not forgotten him."

"Yes…well, it would be rather hard to forget someone who not only saved your butt; but damn near destroyed it too…"

Su could not figure out the precise expression on his face; but she thought it was somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

"But what are you doing here anyway?"

"Yes…" Dobby replied, showing much excitement at the inquiry. "Dobby…since he was no longer serving his Masters—thanks to Harry Potter," he beamed.

 _This was a strange creature,_ Su thought. _I have encountered many House-Elves, throughout my fifteen years of life; but never had I ever seen one excited at the prospect of clothes. And now here I stand, staring at one with mismatched socks, golfing shorts, a plaid shirt, with a…tea cozy hat?_

Staring at her, Harry smiled at Su's bewildered face. Giving her a quick wink, he said, "Confusing huh? Well, to explain the odd behavior, Dobby here was owned by the Malfoy's—" "Bad Masters they are! Dobby is so glad to be away from them, and see, Dobby's hands have almost healed!" the excitable elf squealed.

"When I first met him," Harry sighed, shaking his head in a bemused way, "he was always punishing himself."

Su nodded, she could understand, that was typical behavior for an elf who had just done something wrong. This was something most families were used to, while some of the more prominent jackass families, encouraged it.

This was something her family never encouraged; but could also never stop. So Su felt every bit as guilty, as people like the Malfoy's, whose encouragement was appalling. Even though this was a trait that was taught to them by their parents and their parents, parents, dating all the way back, two thousand years, to the enslavement of their kind. Back, during the uprising of elves, who had developed, and taken up staves against the Witches and Wizards of old.

The biggest reason that the British Wizards back then had won, was because wands; or in all actuality, staffs, were a newer tool, that were able to focus and enhance, one's own magic, but these were better suited to Wizards—not the elves that created them—who after disarming a couple elves. Had found great affinity with their new weapons, and taken these elves hostage. Especially since these elves had helped in their development, they were forced into teaching their captors how to make them.

The Wizards then after having forced the Elves to teach them the methods of creation, began to improve upon the creation by lowering the power output, making them smaller and lighter, as the elves used staffs, which had no accuracy to speak of, and using them more efficiently…or so history said; but who could ever really know the facts? 

But then again, just as its counterpart of mankind, wizardingkind has been wrought with greed, deception, and half told truths, that at first can seem bad enough; but when you delve further into the truth of their past; it was far worse than you had originally heard.

"So, Dobby…the Headmaster mentioned to me that there was someone in need of help down here, and that I should speak to them?" Su heard, as she came out of her revelry. "Do you possibly know who he may have been talking about?"

"Yes, Dobby knows…" the elf said in a tone, that belied his previous manner. "Dobby knows really, really well," he said, his arms stretching out wide, as if to show them how well he really knew.

"But first, Masters Harry, and Mistress…?" Dobby said, looking over to Su.

"Su, Su Li," Su replied, giving him a nod of her head. She really had no idea how to deal with this elf, and what would seem polite or not.

Had he been a Wizard, she would have reached out to shake hands; but as he was a House-Elf, she was afraid that it would offend him. But she thought her gesture was correct, as he smiled and greeted her in kind.

"Dobby thinks that the two of you should eat, seeing as you's is shaking with hunger."

Su was beginning to like this elf, as even with his oddities, he showed the caring nature that she had always known from elves.

But this did beg the question; why did Harry seem so hesitant around this kind little being.

This was a question that had quickly left her mind, as she was harried off to a table in the corner. Ushered by three little elves that seemed to ignore Dobby, and carried lots of tasty looking food. Treacle tarts, every Wizards favorite! And roasted beef, along with leg of lamb, oh how succulent and tasty it smelled and looked…mashed potatoes and even minced meat pies!

Su was not a gluttonous person; but even she at this moment; had been doing nothing but let the drool flow. She was ravenous!

 **POV: Harry Potter**

It took them a while, as they were both starved…. Now that he thought about it, why hadn't they grabbed some of the fruits and vegetables, they had found growing in the chamber?

"Thank you Dobby, and…" he said, looking to the other elves, who quickly departed at the first sign of introduction.

Patting his stomach, Harry looked around. It was quite the room, as wood stoves were burning, leaving a disorder of scents…they must be using different types of wood in the smokers he saw, giving the meat its delicious smoky flavor.

"Yous is welcome!" the little elf squealed; back to his earlier demeanor.

"But now, if Master Harry Potter has no problem, I's woulds like to take Master Harry Potter to see Winky."

That was when it clicked, Winky had been given clothes over the summer, and she was unlike Dobby. Dobby was the type to wear his elven shame with pride; but Winky had been proud of her heritage, serving the Crouch family.

It was only for a short time; but he had spoken to her, just earlier in the day before she had been freed. While she spoke vehemently of Dobby's situation.

Looking over at Su, he noticed how confused she looked; but he had no desire to explain the situation. So he would just let her witness whatever unfolded here. Not that even he could understand what would happen.

Though he did understand what the Professor wanted; but this was something he would decide. Manipulation or no.

"Yes Dobby, please take us to her," and so the little elf did.

The three walked throughout the kitchens, watching as the elves meekly went about their chores, and it amazed Harry at just how much hard work these little creatures did. They were everywhere, and none of them slacked…

Well, that was until they reached a little female elf, wearing a hand-me-down dress, pink with white flowers patterning it, and complete with a…butterbeer?

"Is it just me, or does she look a bit," before he could finish his question, Su put a hand on his shoulder, to explain.

"It's not just you Harry. This is a common thing known to people born in the Wizarding Community; but most Muggleborns, or Muggle raised Witches and Wizards, such as yourself, only learn from contact. But butterbeer has too much of an alcoholic content for House-Elves. .02 percent, not even enough to get a child drunk; but it is for them.

"The House-Elf tolerance for alcohol," she went off, in an almost Hermione-esque way, "is believed to be caused by their diminutive size. But at the same time, we have no real researchers are looking into it, since the sciences of House-Elves are not really big in researchers views," Su finished explaining.

"This I believe your friend Granger has probably already realized, and is probably already thinking up her own solution."

"But don't get me wrong, I do not disagree with her crusade; but if she ever wants it to succeed, there are many things that need to be changed, starting with the House-Elves themselves. Any creature that so strongly believes that freedom is such a curse…and I don't know how convince them otherwise," Su shrugged.

That was when it came to him. An idea that he found quite brilliant…hard, almost impossible; but brilliant none the less. "You focus on the young! House-Elves are set in their own ways, like a Malfoy, or a stubborn old man; but if you focus on the young, eventually… he trailed off.

"You will have a revolt," Su finished for him.

"Yeah," Harry replied sheepishly.

"But it is still worth it if you ask me," Su offhandedly commented, causing Harry to gape at her in surprise.

"What? So many of us magical folk, have so much bias and have just a plain bigoted behavior that we think we are gods gift to humanity. And when an atheist community starts acting all godly, I think it is time to put them in their place."

The sad part, was that Harry couldn't even really disagree with her. Most of who he had met, the past three years he was in the Wizarding World, were quite bigoted. Especially people like the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Which was also what played a big part in Voldemort's rise to power, foolish Wizards that believe themselves divine.

"But you should pay little heed to my ramblings," Su yawned, "and go talk with her."

Walking over, Harry sat down next to Winky. Who could do little more than sway back and forth.

"Winky?" Harry asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You are Winky, right?"

After that, her swaying stopped as she looked over to Harry and belched. "Excuse Winky, she is a bit..." she then trailed of as she met his gaze. "Yous…I knows yous! Yous is the person whose filled Dobby's head with all of that freedom."

"Yes and no," Harry chuckled. While Winky stared back, confused. Before being fed a sobriety potion by Dobby.

"It is true that I gave Dobby his freedom; but I never once encouraged him that it was a good idea, nor did I ever tell him that he should want pay. Like you told me he wanted this past summer," Harrt stated after letting the potion take affect.

"No; but heres we are. Me, I's has no family—"

"But you are here?"

"I's is a family elf, Winky whined. "Heres I is f-free, and has no real Master."

"I's is not like Dobby, he is fine arounds here. Here is where his favorite Harry Potter is, and he's is even gettings paid for it. But Winky wants none of that. What Winky wants is a true Master to serve. Winky wants her Crouch's back!" this time she went into a full on cry, Harry had no idea on how to comfort her.

It was true, he could do as Dumbledore seemed to be hinting at; but he wasn't sure if that was the right move. As she was still clearly distraught over Crouch giving her clothes.

Looking over to Su, he tried signaling with his eyes for advice; but all she could do was shrug her shoulders.

Sighing, Harry closed his eyes and tilted his head back, taking in a deep breath. _Damn, I am starting to feel a bit like a tool,_ Harry thought to himself.

He was beginning to wish for those days of ignorance back. Even though they were really, only a day or so ago.

"Winky, would you like to become my family elf?" Harry wasn't sure if she would want to, or even how this could possibly work. But unless he had missed his guess, this is exactly what Dumbledore had sent him down here for. If not…well he would deal with that if she decided to accept.

Winky on the other hand, looked like she was brought out of anoother drunken stupor, with a slap to the face, Su wasn't much different either.

"Harry…do you realize this could be constituted as theft, if she accepts?"

"No Su, she just said that she had no real Master, and unless I missed my mark, this is what the headmaster wishes for me to do," shrugging off her comment, he looked back to the stunned Winky.

"…but Winky is," Winky whined. "Winky is a bad elf. That is why Master Barty gave her clothes."

"Yes; but unlike Mr. Crouch, Winky…I do not have that strict tolerance. And I may be able to keep you busy for the next bit of time…keeping you away from the booze," at this prospect, Winky actually seemed to brighten up.

"And I do have to say," he added in, a bit teasingly. "There is a lot of cleaning I need done, in an area much bigger than a household. Come to think of it, that area seems to be much larger than most mansions."

Sitting on the other side of him, Su burst out in a fit of laughter. "Harry, I think that not even Malfoy Manor would compare; but you may wish to stop. She now looks as if she may start a quake, with all of the excitement trembling from her."

And Su was right, Winky seemed to be trembling at the prospect of having real duty's to do, and not have to work as the servant of this castle any more. Though in truth, for the time she would be; though in a completely different area than any of the other elves, and it wouldn't be for the school either; but for him.

Moving forward, Winky grabbed Harry by the hand, and began to emit a light, a bluish light. For a moment, Harry felt a slight tingle, with a low emanating hum, before Winky bowed down and said, "From this day forth I, Winky, is property to the Potters of Master Harry, and my children to him and his children."

In a single vibrating flash, followed by a crisp loud pop. It was all done.

Now, Harry was able to feel Winky's presence. Truthfully, it was nothing special, like understanding her thoughts; but he was just aware. It was like he could feel where she stood. A feeling that he had never had before. This was something that he did not know, before entering into the contract, but if the true Master of a House-Elf is close enough to them, they can feel the presence of which direction they were, this makes it, so that they can never hide from their owner, the keeper of their bond.

With a little giggle, Harry could tell that Winky was happy to belong to somebody again; even though, there was a lingering depression that never once left her eyes.


End file.
